Smoking Lamps
by FreeKiwi
Summary: She bought Roxas a hookah pipe to cheer him up. He smoked the red shisha hoping to make himself sick. The summoning of Axel, the unconventional genie threatening to trap Roxas in the pipe if he makes three wishes, was just a really unfortunate byproduct.
1. It's Natural to be Afraid

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters in this story. At all.

_**Warning:**_ Shounen-ai, homosexual relationships, etc, etc.

**Author's Note: **Well, you guys voted and here it is: _Pipe Genie_. Except this was re-titled to _Smoking Lamps _because I like that better. Just so you guys know, if you haven't looked at the poll, 25 voted for _Smoking Lamps, _21 for _Minor Miracles_, and 17 for _Money Shot_. I'm not sure when, but eventually _Minor Miracles _and _Money Shot _will be written. When I finish this story, I'll set up a new poll and have you guys vote again.

**Remember to review**. You guys voted to see this story, so please, please, please leave feedback. Let me know what you like or don't like, what you think about the premise, what is good and bad about the first chapter, etc. I think at this point everyone knows how I feel about feedback, so I won't yammer on too much about it.

Oh, and one more thing: For those of you who don't know, Hookah is a type of instrument used for smoking flavored tobacco called shisha. I had a long, Wikipedia-esque description here, but then Aindel S. Druida suggested I just say this: It's the thing the caterpillar in _Alice in Wonderland _is using to smoke. That's much simpler. Thanks, Aindel!

**PLEASE NOTE! **This story begins in first person perspective. I know a LOT of people don't like first person perspective so the story **continues in third person**_**. **_**However, at some points, I will switch to first person.**

_**When I switch to first-person perspective, it is AXEL'S perspective. It will ALWAYS be AXEL'S perspective.**_

Onward to story.

**Summary:** Roxas hates his family. He hates that his mother and father are separated. He hates his mundane job. He hates his girlfriend. He hates being gay. He hates that his best friend is dying of cancer. He hates, and hates, and hates, and one day his girlfriend buys him a Hookah pipe to cheer him up. And even though he doesn't smoke, he decides to light up anyway because it makes him sad to see his beard cry. So he breathes in and then he breathes out. And before he can accurately comprehend what the fuck is going on, a drop-dead gorgeous genie named Axel is sitting on his bed, yammering about three wishes. And before Roxas can wish his beard away and his life back to normal, Axel tacks on the addendum: "But I'm binding us together and if you make your three wishes, we'll both be stuck in that Hookah pipe for eternity."

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><p><em>Smoking Lamps<em>  
>•••<p>

•••

By: Freekiwi

1 – It's Natural to be Afraid

**This story begins **at his end.

Roxas is sitting in his mother's bakeshop, staring blankly into a cup of black coffee. He doesn't drink his coffee black and he never has, but the gravity of the situation currently pervading his usually melancholy world seems to make him forget that small factoid about himself.

"Roxas…"

He looks up, his eyes filled with the deepest hurt and the most sincere look of longing ever to be witnessed on a single human being. He looks like he wants to cry for lack of anything better to do, but he doesn't because he's a man and he doesn't believe it's a man's job to cry. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he swallows thickly. That hurt, that longing… It morphs into fear and possibly regret and I reach out to him, lay my hand on his, and he curls his fingers against the tabletop and looks away. He's ashamed. I don't know of what, but he's ashamed. And I know better than to prod him for information because I know he doesn't know himself any better than I do.

"Roxas…"

"I've always lived his dream."

The words are hushed, but articulated. It's a thought that's been in his head since the beginning of our endeavor. He feels selfish. All his complaining, his whining, his incessant insistence that things are terrible for him because they aren't the way he _wants _them now makes him feel obtuse upon reflection. But what does he expect? You can live a hundred times over and still miss the chance to count your blessings and be happy, prosperous, that things are, at the very least, working out in a manner that doesn't involve illegalities, death, or betrayal.

"Roxas, it isn't your fault."

His eyes narrow. He's thinking, calculating, trying to offer a response that voids my assertion that he couldn't have done anything. I curl my fingers against the back of his hand, my nails leaving lingering lines as they touch his delicate skin. His other hand comes to grip the handle of his coffee cup, but he doesn't lift the mug to his lips nor does he make any move to indicate he wishes to drink. He stares into the black liquid, a metaphor for the abyss in which he is currently mired, and sighs in a way that sounds suspiciously like "goodbye."

"I know what I can do," Roxas says in this controlled, overt manner. All the conviction he feels, but usually ignores, flows through him and into his head. His eyes, the hurt and longing gone, show something unreadable. They offer a window into some state that I'm not completely aware exists because I have never dealt with anyone like him before.

We make eye contact. I know I lack the emotion, the ardor, and my eyes don't scream the way his do. What makes him human and what makes me a genie isn't his lack of magic power, but it is my lack of human sentiment. I am hardened by centuries of selfish behavior, and actions wished for without remorse when the consequences are woefully dire. He is, for our intents and purposes, still innocent, and his heart still beats to the rhythm of others.

He is in sync in a world where synchrony is rare because everyone is attempting to make their own paths that are usually filled with selfish desires made up of greed, hatred, and anger. He isn't perfect, but I know his past transgressions keep him awake at night. And this is more moving, more impressive, than anything I've ever had the pleasure of witnessing.

"Come on," he says as he slips his hand from under mine and stands. "I know what I can do."

There's the edge of a smile lingering on the corners of his lips. All the negativity that suffused his mind and encompassed his being is gone and what's left is a man who has decided his own fate. He is no longer the dutiful son and rightful heir, the good friend, the dubious boyfriend, the agitated, disenchanted youth waiting for something better.

He is different because he has made his own choice. And I know that with all that conviction beating through his heart, replacing his blood, and filling him with a confidence he hadn't known could exist for him, there is little I can do to stop him.

I don't move so he says, "It's natural to be afraid."

But fear is never natural for a genie.

••••••••••••••

**Demyx was decorating** a guitar-shaped cake when Roxas walked over and began a litany of everything that was wrong with his world. This list included his girlfriend (Demyx delightfully called her Fuzzy in reference to the fact that she was a beard), his separated parents, his father's new girlfriend who happened to only be a year older than himself, his lack of a future that he had chosen for himself, and his disgust with the messy patrons of his mother's bakeshop.

"I wish I was this guy," Demyx stated wistfully once Roxas had stopped his harangue. "Thirty years of a dedicated life to music."

He leaned over and looked at the cake. A little smirk made itself known on his lips and he raised his brows. "Uh… Demy? You spelled 'years' wrong."

He looked at the cake, at the misspelling, and his shoulders sagged. "It's the cold," he defended. "The cold is messing with my head."

Roxas snorted. "Right. When I get sick, I spell 'years' with two E's too."

A pout crossed the mohawked boy's face and he grabbed a nearby spreader and began to smooth away the words he had written. Lucky for him, the frosting on the cake and the frosting he used for the writing was the same color. His mistake could be easily fixed and no one would notice what a terrible speller he could be.

Demyx wasn't stupid. He just sucked at spelling. His penchant lied in music, not academia, and he swore up and down that his job at Roxas' mother's bakeshop was just a temp gig.

But it wasn't exactly a secret that Demyx also really liked to bake and he liked to decorate and it just so happened that he was a really, really good cook. Originally, he had started coming into the bakeshop to perform at open mic night. Roxas, who had been his best friend since third grade, had mentioned that if Demyx worked at the shop, he could play at open mic night for free and avoid having to pay the cover charge.

It was a win-win: showcase his music and get a paycheck.

"You know, if you're sick, maybe you shouldn't be decorating a cake…" Roxas mumbled. He watched as Demyx began to spell out 'Happy 30 Years' again, this time with precision and skill.

"Y-E-A-R, right?" he asked, ignoring Roxas' contention that he shouldn't be at work with a cold.

"Uh, don't forget the 'S.'"

"Right!" His eyes narrowed in concentration as he made the curve of the 'S.' He was much better at decorating cakes than Roxas, but this wasn't so much skill as it was Roxas could have given a shit about cake decorating or the bakeshop. He didn't like baking. He was decent at it, he guessed, but only because his mother had pretty much been training him to take over the shop since he was seven.

He didn't want to take over the shop. He wanted to go to college. He wanted to forge his own path. He wanted to make mistakes and learn life lessons and experience what school was like sans the possibility of detention and late slips. He wanted to live on his own and exist by himself. But his mother had a way about her that just made Roxas feel so damn guilty for wanting to do anything that had nothing to do with her.

"Oh, Roxy…" she would say. "Your father left me and you're all I have left."

It wasn't true, but he felt especially bad for her because his father's girlfriend was… Young. Vibrant. Pretty. Her face wasn't hardened by smoking lines and decades of hard work. Her hands weren't permanently wrinkled from washing so many dishes. She didn't have scars left from burns and knives. She had an itty-bitty waist and was happy to be a lapdog. She seemed so content not to forge her own path. She seemed happy being, what Roxas deemed, a sidekick.

Not that his father was a superhero by any means.

"There," Demyx said proudly. "How's it look?"

Roxas shook his head to clear his thoughts and then craned his neck to look at the cake. "It's crooked."

Demyx gave him a look and eyed the cake suspiciously. After a moment, he declared, "No it's not."

A little smile crossed his lips and he gave his friend a pat on the butt. "I'm messing with you. It looks good, Demy."

"Thanks. Now I just have to –" A sudden, powerful sneeze overcame him and Roxas' skin lined with goose bumps as he felt the spray from Demyx's mouth and nose wash not only over him, but the cake as well.

"Fuck!" the blond yelled as he used the back of his hand to wipe his nose. "God…" He paused. "Do you think they'll notice? It adds flavor, right? It builds immunity, right?" The cake had to be ready by three and it was already two. He didn't have time to bake another cake and decorate it.

Roxas was busy wiping his arm off with the towel from his apron pocket. He was rubbing so hard, his skin was beginning to turn red. He wasn't a germaphobe, but he doubted anyone liked being sneezed on.

"You need to go home," Roxas insisted.

"No!" Demyx wailed. "I'm fine! I just… sneezed. Don't go all 'zombie apocalypse' on me. And besides, it's like a free vaccine! People eat this cake and then they won't get a cold."

He made a face. "That's… not how vaccines work, Dem."

He mumbled something that sounded like, "Yea, I know, I was just hoping you didn't know…" and made a move to scrap the cake. However, as he set down his decorating piece and made a move toward the cake, a vacant look came over his face. His eyes seemed to un-focus, his lips parted slightly, and he could hear Roxas' concerned voice, but it sounded so far away.

"Dem?" he asked. "Demy, hey, man –" His words dried up in his throat as a thin trail of blood leaked from Demyx's nose. The towel Roxas had used to wipe his arm was immediately pressed under the blonde's nose and he had just enough time to place his hand on the small of the tall boy's back before Demyx swayed and lost consciousness.

Roxas broke his fall.

••••••••••••••

**Zexion was less **than pleased when he arrived at the hospital. As a medical student, he almost never had any free time. He spent the majority of his day in lecture and then he studied and studied and studied until his eyes began to hurt and his hand began to cramp. He had, at one point, concluded that he had four free hours a day if he slept only six hours a night. Those four hours included bathing, eating, and spending time with Demyx.

"What happened?" Zexion asked when he found the other's room.

"Eh, just the doctors overreacting, you know?" Demyx pulled his IV out of his hand and flung it away from himself. He yanked the covers off his body and stood, only to wince in slight pain when he realized he had electrodes still attached to his skin. A grunt passed his lips as he began to yank them off, but Zexion reached out and grabbed his wrists.

"Stop it! They have you set up for a reason. You need to be compliant or they will be less inclined to help you."

"Help me with what?" the blond whined. "I'm fine. I'm just not over the cold and I overdid it today."

Roxas, who sat in a nearby chair, crossed his arms and watched Zexion. They got along sometimes, but it was clear they weren't really compatible. He and Zexion played nice for Demyx's sake, but there was strain between them. Roxas was under the impression Zexion thought he was better than everyone else and Zexion confirmed his suspicions by acting like he was better than everyone else.

"Demyx, lie down," the medical student said forcefully. "You don't just pass out from a cold. You've been sick for almost two weeks now." He placed his hands on the taller boy's chest and tried to gently coerce him back down.

But Demyx wasn't having it, so he grabbed Zexion's wrists and directed them off his body. "I'm fine. I don't have insurance, Zex, you know that. We need to get out of here before they decide to bill me for like… a heart transplant or some shit."

Roxas snickered from his seat and endured a shit-eating look from Zexion.

"We'll figure out a way to pay the bill. What's more upsetting to me than a hospital bill is you being seriously ill and –"

"Is everything okay in here?" Demyx's nurse, a brunet male by the name of Sora, poked his head into the room curiously. "Your heart rate was fluctuating a little strangely and… Oh, I see why…"

Demyx looked away, somewhat embarrassed by his actions. "They're trying to kidnap me, you know," he said jokingly as he indicated to Zexion and Roxas. He raised his boyfriend's arm in the air and said, "This one here took out my IV!"

Zexion yanked his hand away from the taller boy and glared at him. "He's joking," he defended thinly. "Are you his nurse? What's going on?"

Sora walked into the room and shut the door softly behind him. "Well, we can't say for sure, but his white blood cell count is… dysfunctional. Are you his…" The nurse hesitated. "Father?"

Zexion looked wildly offended and Roxas began to laugh loudly from his seat.

"I… I do not look old enough…" Zexion felt a blush invade his cheeks and he balled his fists. "No, I'm a… close friend." He knew better than to out himself and Demyx in a hospital. Though prejudices weren't supposed to exist in the medical setting, he knew they did and he thought it would be much more beneficial to them if they kept quiet about their inclination toward men.

"Sorry," Sora mumbled awkwardly. "Your concern for him just seemed, uh… Never mind. Demyx, based on your symptoms and the results of the blood panel, I think the doctor would like to do a bone marrow examination."

Roxas jumped up from his chair. He and Zexion, in unison, asked, "Why?"

Zexion crossed his arms and took a large step away from Roxas. The blond rolled his eyes and made a mental note to tell Zexion that he was an immature fuckhead later.

Demyx sighed and flopped back down on the hospital bed. He pulled the rest of his electrodes off and placed his arms behind his head. "I don't have medical insurance. Can we skip the dramatics and just send me home? I know that ambulance ride was expensive. It would've been cheaper to rent a stretch limo."

Roxas looked away to hide his smile. Zexion was becoming increasingly annoyed with his boyfriend's unconcerned nature. He didn't want to say what he _thought_ could be wrong because he didn't want to admit that Demyx could actually be seriously sick. However, given they wanted to do a bone marrow examination, he had a funny feeling in his stomach that things were heading down a dangerous path.

"It's… a routine test. We –"

"It's not a routine test," Zexion snapped. "You think he has cancer, don't you?"

Demyx jerked up into a sitting position. "What?"

Roxas looked suddenly uncomfortable and he began to pace the length of the very small room. He did this when he was nervous or when he didn't know what to say. Sometimes he just paced because he felt that if he didn't do _something_, he might very well explode.

"Let's… let's not jump to conclusions," Sora said calmly. "Based on the blood panel, the doctor just thinks it would be best –"

"I don't have insurance," Demyx reminded them from his side of the room.

"It's okay. Hospitals do payment plans that –"

"Listen to me, you little twit." Zexion gripped the front of Sora's scrubs and yanked him close. "Don't feed me bullshit. I –"

Roxas placed his hand on Zexion's shoulder and gave him a little tug. "Zex, calm down," he said much more gently than he really meant to. "He's just the messenger."

Hesitantly, he released the nurse and tried to compose himself. "Excuse me." He bowed his head and left the room, leaving a concerned Demyx and a seemingly stoic Roxas behind. Sora looked a little roughed, but not at all shocked. He hated delivering bad news. No one ever took it well. And because he was a man, people didn't feel as badly being rather rude to him.

"Let's say you _don't _examine my bone marrow…" Demyx offered. "Then what?"

Sora frowned slightly. "Then… you could have leukemia that's going untreated. You have a much better chance of fighting this if we catch it early. But –"

"You know," Roxas interrupted. "It's a lose-lose, Demy. You'll either die from the cancer or you'll die under the mountain of debt you'll be drowning under from trying to treat it."

Demyx knew he shouldn't have laughed, but he did.

One way or another, he was going to be spending the rest of his life dealing with the hospital and all the wonderful things it had to offer.

••••••••••••••

"**I hate everything**."

Naminé grimaced and tried to hold Roxas' hand, but he really wasn't having it. After a small tiff between Zexion and Demyx at the hospital, Demyx reluctantly scheduled an appointment to have his bone marrow examined. He insisted he'd rather be dead than go through all the horrible cancer treatments and, more importantly, the debt he would accrue, but Zexion didn't care and insisted that there were no fates worse than death.

And Demyx had mumbled, "Except being the boyfriend of a medical student…" which had earned him the silent treatment.

Roxas had left them sometime after that for fear he would wind up in the middle of some horrible argument. He knew Demyx well and he knew the blond would insist and insist and insist all the way up until after the bone marrow examination was done that he _didn't need help_ and that he was _fine_. Aside from his penchant for music, he had a penchant for ignoring problems. Anything that could even be _construed _as negative, Demyx acted as if he were blind to them. And if there was no possible way for him to ignore the negativity, he pretended like it didn't bother him and that he was happy regardless of what was going on.

It was total bullshit.

Naminé sighed and placed her hands in her lap. She and Roxas were sitting at a nearby park on a bench, a good distance between them. One would think she would be used to Roxas and his reclusive behavior or that perhaps she would finally get sick of it and break up with him, but she loved Roxas more deeply than she had ever loved anyone and she had convinced herself a while ago that, no matter what, she could make this work.

He slipped his hands into the pockets of his jacket and stared at nothing.

"Everything will turn out all right in the end…" Naminé offered gently.

Roxas' eyes narrowed. "Gee, I feel better," he grumbled sarcastically. "Any other fortune cookie bullshit you wanna bestow on me, Nam?"

Her cheeks heated to a light pink and she gripped the hem of her dress and looked at her feet. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I… I'm just not sure what to say. I feel badly, Roxas. I wish there was something I could do for you."

He rolled his eyes. "I know what you can do. Don't give me a shitty, optimistic outlook on a situation that no one knows how it will turn out."

Her blush deepened and she turned her head away from him. "Sorry," she mumbled again. She opened her mouth to assert that she only said what she had said to make him feel better, but after being with him for nearly two years, she knew better than to defend herself. Roxas couldn't have cared less about what she had to say and why she kept saying things was a mystery to both of them.

"I have to go back to work," he lied. He didn't _have _to, but he wanted to get away from her and he wanted to do something mind-numbing so he would stop lamenting over Demyx and his possible sickness.

"Oh, well…" She looked over at him and hesitantly said, "I was thinking maybe we could go do something together? Maybe it would cheer you up?"

Roxas stood up from the bench and shrugged. "No thanks. I want to be alone."

Naminé watched him as he walked away with his shoulders sagged, his brow furrowed, and a deep look of resentment plastered on his features. By now, she knew better than to expect a goodbye or a hug or a kiss, but that didn't mean she wasn't deeply bothered whenever Roxas lurked away from her with hatred in his eyes and a longing for something else – something that clearly wasn't her – in his heart.

She watched him until he was out of sight and then she sighed and removed her cell phone from her purse. Her relationship with Roxas hadn't always been so messy, strained, and difficult. In fact, when they began dating and up until about six months ago, they had been inseparable and Roxas would have gladly moved mountains if it made her happy. Naminé didn't know what happened, but her boyfriend had become sullen. His attitude dropped to an all time low. He suddenly became very fed up with everyone and everything that wasn't Demyx.

It was as if he had been holding some deep loathing for all humankind and one day, he just broke and released his negativity into the universe.

She dialed Kairi's number and pressed the phone to her ear. It rang a few times before the auburn haired girl answered.

"Hey, Kai? It's Nam. Want to go shopping with me? Roxas needs some cheering up."

She snorted into the phone. "Yea, like he can be cheered up…" she stated miserably. "Yea, I'll come along."

Naminé smiled. "Great! Meet me on East Street in fifteen minutes."

Roxas' loathing probably wasn't helped by the fact that Kairi, Naminé's best friend, was currently dating his father.

••••••••••••••

**Sometime between sunset **and night, Roxas' attitude had taken a dire turn for the worse. His mother had ended up closing the bakeshop at six instead of seven and as they were cleaning up the floor and tables, Roxas had to endure a lecture about customer service and how it was inappropriate to swear at customers, refuse service to customers, and make comments under his breath about them.

"I know life isn't the smooth sailing ship you want it to be, but you have it a lot easier than many other people."

Roxas gripped the mop so tightly, his knuckles turned white and he practiced a supreme bout of self-control by not throwing his mop down and telling her how much he _hated_ it when people told him how much worse his life could be. He was aware his life could be worse. He knew he wasn't under the worst conditions. But it certainly didn't make him feel any better about his circumstance. It made him feel worse – like he was being petty and stupid.

And sometimes he was and he knew it, but he really didn't need to feel bad with the added bonus of feeling guilty for feeling badly.

"Your father left me for your friend and –"

"She is _not_ my friend," Roxas snapped, the venom in his voice almost toxic. "She's Naminé's stupid friend. Don't accuse me of being friends with that… that home wrecker."

His mother glanced at him from the table she was cleaning and shrugged. "If it weren't for you and Naminé dating, she never would have been introduced to your father."

Roxas' jaw was set and he twisted the mop handle in his hands. "Don't blame me for Dad being a self-indulgent whore. If it wasn't her, it would've been… fuck, I don't know, Olette?"

His mother scrubbed a speck of something off the table and shook her head, a few strands of loose hair falling against her stone-hard face. "I'm not blaming you. I'm simply saying that some people have it worse than you and sulking about Demyx isn't going to help."

"By some people you mean yourself," he snapped. "And I'll sulk all I want, thanks. Demyx could have cancer and he could die from it. At least you aren't going to die from Dad's past transgressions."

She put a hand on her chest and clutched her heart. "A broken heart is a very real condition," she told him. "I could go to sleep tonight and my heart may very well lose its will to continue pumping because my husband and my son are on a crusade against me."

Roxas felt a vein in his head throb. "I'm not on a crusade against you! I'm here, aren't I? I'm wearing this stupid apron and spending my days working in this stupid bakeshop doing _what you want me to do, _aren't I?" He slammed the mop into the dirty water and sent water sloshing all over the floor. "I'm living your dumb dream."

"Just like any son should do," she snapped. "I gave you the greatest gift of all: life."

It didn't _feel_ like a gift. Roxas wasn't, by any means, suicidal. He didn't want to die and he was actually quite fearful of death. It wasn't _his_ life that bothered him so much sometimes. It was the life of others that irked him to an incomprehensible degree.

"Whatever," he growled. He removed his apron and threw it onto a table. He quickly mopped up all the water from the floor and wheeled the mop bucket to the back where he dumped it down a drain on the floor. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he ignored it though he would have very much liked to yell at Naminé for Kairi's existence.

"You know…" His mother came to the back and dropped her soiled rag into a waste bin. "I don't blame you for your father. I don't even really blame Kairi," she stated honestly. "I just wish it had never happened and I still love him so I would like to think that maybe Kairi has some sort of… way about her that just brainwashed him."

Roxas set the mop bucket upright and then picked up the mop, removing the head and tossing it into the garbage. "She didn't brainwash him," he said unsympathetically. "They're all just…" He searched his mind for a word. "Shameless."

To Roxas, a lack of shame was synonymous to lacking a soul: a terrible trade-off that only lead to the degradation of character and moral value.

••••••••••••••

**She saw the **Hookah pipe before any other and it was the one she wanted as soon as she walked into the shop. The base was glass, red in color with an odd, green patterned design of inverted triangles. The pipe was silver and the hose coming off it was red and green and reminded her of Christmas. The ceramic bowl at the top was red, but the shape wasn't circular. It was more… triangular which only heightened her interest in the oddly shaped pipe.

"Is that one for sale?" she asked, pointing to the coveted pipe that sat in the back room.

The owner of the shop, a fellow with silver hair and deep, sea-green eyes, smirked. "Sorry, dear. That pipe happens to be very special."

Naminé frowned. "I'll pay you $200 for it."

This drew a derisive laugh from the man. "We have plenty of other fine Hookahs for much cheaper. Don't waste your time on that particular one."

Kairi touched Naminé's arm. "Come on, let's just go. Roxas doesn't even smoke."

The blond dismissed her with a, "I've seen him smoke before."

"If it's the color you're interested in, we have many red and green pipes." He made a motion to one side of the store where a few pipes sat, red and green in color, but lacking the design and the aura of the pipe that sat in the open back room.

"How come you won't sell that pipe?" Naminé asked curiously.

"Curiosity killed the cat, dear."

"I guess it's a good thing I'm human, then."

The owner laughed and she felt the hair on the back of her neck rise when he gave her an up and down look. His eyes seemed somewhat catlike and he looked like an animal ready to pounce. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips and she looked at the nametag that sat on the right of his shirt.

"Listen Mister uh… Riku," she began. "My boyfriend is kind of… upset… And I think that pipe would really cheer him up."

Riku raised one single, silver brow. "Cheat on him?"

"What? No!" she blushed. "I would never do such a horrible thing!"

Kairi suddenly had the urge to meander away and she began to look around the shop, trying to find a different pipe that Roxas may like. She didn't know much about him other than that he had a proclivity, lately, of making Naminé feel very badly about their relationship. Whether it was on purpose or not, she wasn't sure, but she tried her best to stay out of it now that she was dating Roxas' father.

He already hated her to her core. She didn't want to make things worse by acting like his mother, especially since they were nearly the same age.

"Look, dear, I can't sell that pipe to you."

"Why?" Naminé asked.

"Because the base of that pipe is rumored to be cursed. The symbol of the inverted triangle was a sign of femininity and it is said that a woman, upon being betrayed by her husband, slit his throat and carved the inverted triangles under his eyes as a sign of female power. She then carved an inverted triangle on her own hand – her left hand – so everyone would know her power. She burned her husband's remains and placed the ashes in that very base. She buried it eight miles from her home and when it was rediscovered, it was used as the base for a Hookah pipe because no one knew the legend behind it. It's said that anyone who smokes from that pipe will be cursed by the ghost of the woman's husband, seeking revenge for his wife's past disobedience."

Naminé's eyes were glued to the pipe.

"So, as you see, dear, I can't sell you that pipe for fear you or your boyfriend will be cursed."

She opened her mouth to argue, but the door of the shop opened and Riku's demeanor changed from one of catlike astuteness to eagerness and fondness for the brunet man who had just entered the store.

"Sora," he said happily. "How was work?"

The boy in scrubs came around the counter and embraced Riku, pressing a small kiss to his mouth. "I'll… tell you later," he responded, noticing the two girls and releasing Riku from the embrace.

"Purchasing a pipe?" Sora asked happily.

"Trying to," Naminé responded politely.

"Trying?" the brunet asked.

"I want that pipe." She pointed to the one in the back and Sora craned his neck to look at it. "Your boyfriend won't sell it to me."

Sora rolled his eyes. "Sell the damn pipe, Ri."

His shoulders sagged and he sighed. "You ruin the ambience of everything. I had a whole thing going! The pipe was cursed and this dude had shit carved on his face and then he was burned… I was trying to create hype and you just… Never mind."

Naminé's eyes narrowed. "So… Basically, you just lied about the pipe being cursed?"

"A little bit," Riku admitted with a smirk. "Do you want it for your boyfriend or not?"

"Yes, please!" She smiled widely and thanked Sora who gave Riku a small slap on the arm for lying to his customers.

"I was trying to create hype! That pipe is cool and we could've sold it for a lot more than…"

Their conversation died out as Naminé left the store with her purchase and Kairi. The auburn haired girl had stayed quiet throughout their small adventure in the shop after the blond had mentioned the atrocity of cheating. Naminé, nice and good to her core, didn't know that Kairi had actually helped Roxas' dad cheat on his mom. She was under the impression that Kairi merely started dating the much older man _after_ Roxas' parents had separated.

"Do you think he'll like it?"

Kairi shrugged. "Maybe…"

But she wasn't really sure of much anymore.

••••••••••••••

"**Well… It's… uh… **It's a pipe…" Roxas tried.

Naminé frowned. "You hate it."

"I don't… hate it," he mumbled, a grimace crossing his features as he fingered the long, red hose. "I mean… It's cool looking."

She shook her head. "I can take it back."

"No, Nam, it's okay. I like it…" He shrugged his shoulders and took a seat on the edge of his bed. He slept on a mattress on the floor because he saw no need for a box spring or a bed frame. When he sat, the pipe was slightly taller than him. The red, which looked better sitting in the shop, seemed too bright and somehow… sinister. The inverted triangles weren't so much a deep, evergreen color and more of the color of sewage.

It had looked so pretty in the shop.

Naminé tucked her hair behind her ear nervously. "Um… I just… I know that sometimes you smoke and I thought this would cheer you up and –"

She was doing that _thing_ that Roxas hated. She was talking really fast and trying to defend herself and this was normally what she did when she was about to cry. He was usually fed up with his girlfriend and he routinely found himself very annoyed with her. But he didn't like seeing her cry. He didn't like to see anyone cry because it made him woefully uncomfortable.

"It's nice, Nam. I like it," he insisted. "It's just been a… weird day." The conclusion he came to wasn't a total lie. However, he certainly wasn't going to tell her that he didn't really like smoking and that the times he had smoked Hookah had been when he was intoxicated. That was really the only time smoking appealed to him.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

Naminé calmed down somewhat and nodded. "You're welcome."

They sat in an awkward silence and then Naminé mentioned something about needing to get home to her parents. She was still in high school unlike Roxas who had graduated the year before and Kairi, who had graduated a year before him. He nodded his head and, against his better judgment, stood up from his bed and gave her a little kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks," he said again. "I appreciate you trying to cheer me up."

That wasn't a lie. He _did_ appreciate her effort. Though her effort usually went unnoticed because he was annoyed by the words coming out of her mouth, he sometimes stopped and tried to remind himself that she was the only one trying. Roxas had stopped trying about six months ago. He stopped trying to make things work. Naminé had set a precedent that he didn't need to try to keep her around.

She felt good as she left Roxas' house. It was an unusual feeling for her because she usually felt quite sullen whenever she and her boyfriend parted. He was generally upset at her over something and she was generally left trying to figure out how to fix something that she wasn't even sure was broken to begin with.

When she left, Roxas examined the pipe again. He looked in the large bag that the pipe had come in and grabbed the package of coals and the small package of shisha. He was a bit suspicious of the shisha when he opened the package and saw that it was red in color. Not somewhat red, but a very, very red that seemed to emit a glow. He didn't smoke often and he didn't know much about shisha, but he had a funny feeling in his stomach that it shouldn't be such a weird color.

Roxas took a deep breath and decided that, given all the things that were slowly going downhill for him, smoking some Hookah might actually help him relax. So he began to prepare the pipe and he decided, against his better judgment, that smoking the red colored shisha might make things better. He could use a hallucinogen, a good trip, maybe, to gain some sort of delusional perspective of life.

Or maybe he would get cancer and he and Demyx, if he really _was_ sick, could spend the rest of their eternity sitting in hospital beds in matching gowns, shaving their hands, throwing up their lunches, and hoping for remission or death.

••••••••••••••

**I was pale **red smoke the first time he breathed me in and then breathed me out. I was touched by his tongue, his lips… The warm sensation stirred a feeling of awakening in the pit of my stomach and it was something I hadn't felt in almost three decades because I hadn't been awakened in years.

I was pale red smoke. And he was white, blond, blue-eyed, and seemingly dazed by God knows what. He watched with curious intent as I ceased to be smoke and became, instead, a pseudo-human with legs, arms, a torso, and all the delicacies that human beings possess. My feet touched his floor and I stretched, nearly a twenty-six year imprisonment giving me the stiffest neck imaginable.

He stared at me with a mixture of fear, loathing, curiosity… He gripped the hose in his hand and didn't take another draw. I cracked my neck, my fingers, and stretched my back before giving him a smirk and looking him up and down.

He was some young fuck. Some dumb kid who was dumbstruck by my sudden appearance. I didn't need to know him to know that he, like all the humans I've ever had the displeasure of dealing with, was selfish, lacking remorse for all past wrongdoings. And as soon as he knew who – excuse me, _what_ – I was, he would try to wish away all his problems.

But I was done with wishes. I was done attempting to solve selfish problems for selfish humans who couldn't see past their own needs and wants. All humans did was want and want and want and they didn't care what their wishes would do to the ones they claimed to care about.

Wishing for millions of dollars, mansions, nice cars, to be kings and queens and rulers of countries or towns or states, to be loved unconditionally, to bring back people from the dead… They all failed to realize that it wasn't _me_ who was making the mistakes when their wishes fell through. When they lost their millions to the government, their mansions foreclosed on and cars repossessed, their unruly people revolting against them, their loved ones suffering depression and eventual suicide, and the dead walking around like ghosts and wishing for death that wouldn't ever come…

Selfish wishes bring about negative outcomes and it isn't a genie's job to tell their masters.

Masters.

Wishes weren't meant to be granted. If this were the case, birthday cakes, shooting stars, and 11:11 would have wishes coming true all the time.

I was done with entrapment in my Hookah pipe. I was done with self-indulgent wishes. I didn't need to know this sniveling twit before me to know that he was just as bad as everyone else I've ever met.

His wishes would backfire and all I would have to show for it is another decade, century, millennia stuck in a pipe until someone else pushed me past their lips.

••••••••••••••

"**You're a hallucination."**

The tall, redheaded man that stood before Roxas smirked. "I wish I was, kid." He laughed at the nature of his joke, but then stopped when he realized the blond obviously didn't understand what he was getting at.

"It's a bad trip," Roxas concluded to no one in particular. He set the hose of his pipe down, used a pair of tongs to remove the coal from the bowl of the Hookah, and then he lied down on his bed and closed his eyes.

"You're not very hospitable."

Roxas put his arms behind his head. "I don't have to be hospitable to illusions. And unless you're going to give me the secrets of a happy life or some really sound advice to solve my problems, I'm going to go to sleep and when I wake up, pretend this never happened."

His lips slowly curled into a smirk. Humans were so selfish. They were always looking to solve their problems without worrying about the problems it may create for someone else. They were always more concerned with fixing their needs and having their own wants granted before giving a second look to anyone else.

"I'm not an illusion," the tall man said smoothly. "I'm a genie."

Roxas sat up and eyed the redhead up and down. "Right. And I'm not hallucinating."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Believe what you want, kid. It's really no skin off my back."

The blond looked at the other and his eyes narrowed. He removed his phone from his pocket and navigated to the camera function. Logically, a hallucination shouldn't appear on camera. So Roxas snapped a photo of the redhead and then promptly dropped his phone when the other appeared on screen.

"I hope you managed to get my good side," the man joked.

Scrambling off his bed, Roxas grabbed his phone and began to dial 911.

"I wouldn't," he warned. "I'll just disappear."

The blond hesitated and decided against calling the police. Instead, he decided to send the photo of the redhead to Demyx. Logically, if Roxas was hallucinating and seeing an image on his phone when it actually wasn't there, Demyx would be able to set him straight.

"What are you?" Roxas asked. He stood at the other side of the room, away from the redhead, and looked at him with grave suspicion.

"I'm a genie," he repeated. "And you're a bad listener."

He scowled. "Genies come from lamps."

The tall man laughed derisively. "I see you've gathered all your information about genies from _Aladdin_, haven't you? Don't feel stupid. That's apparently where many humans get their information."

Roxas blushed and didn't want to admit that, yes, he _was_ deriving his knowledge about genies from _Aladdin_. His phone buzzed and he jumped, feeling extremely on edge from this whole ordeal. He should have known better than to trust something Naminé bought him. She had a bad habit of managing to pick out items that often became a hindrance to Roxas. He looked at the text message on his phone and the hair on his arms rose when he saw Demyx had texted back, "Neat! Who's your friend?"

"… You're real…"

The redhead indicated to himself. "It's Axel, actually."

Silence engulfed the room and Roxas stood, his back seemingly stuck to his bedroom wall. He was afraid to get close to Axel. He wasn't totally convinced this wasn't some horrible trip. Maybe getting some sleep would be the best solution, just in case he was having some fucked up daydream about genies.

"So, look, kid… Let's lay some ground rules. You get three wishes, got it? You can wish for whatever the fuck you want, despite what the genie in _Aladdin_ says. The only thing you _can't_ wish for is more wishes. That's not a rule for all genies, that's just my personal rule. I'm not bound to grant your retarded wishes, either. So if I think your wish is stupid, I won't grant it."

He didn't use to be quite so cynical. He also used to grant up to twenty wishes. But things began to decline the longer he was a genie and he became more and more disenchanted with all the people in all the time periods he had met. In the end, they all proved to want the same thing: love, money, and power.

"I… I actually get three wishes?" Roxas asked tentatively.

Axel gave him a look. "Nah, I just say shit for fun," he said sardonically.

Roxas pouted. "Don't be a dick. It's not like I've ever encountered a genie before."

Axel rolled his jade colored eyes and put his hands on his hips. "Look, just make your three self-involved wishes and let me get back to spending eternity by myself."

The blonde's hair bristled. "My wishes won't be self-involved."

Axel laughed. Like he hadn't heard _that_ one before. "Go ahead, kid. Try as you might, your wishes will always be somehow centered around _you_."

Roxas glared. "So you're all knowing? Or is being an arrogant dickwad a prerequisite for cramming yourself into a pipe?"

Axel raised his brows. "Okay, what would you wish for?"

"I would… I would wish my Dad's girlfriend away."

"Oh yea, hey, that's not selfish," Axel said sarcastically. "I mean, she probably makes your dad happy and there are things like world hunger and animal abuse, but yea, hey, that's not a selfish wish at all. You've so far proved me wrong."

Roxas cheeks heated to a deep shade of red. "Go fuck yourself."

"Someone's feisty."

"What would you wish for?" Roxas snapped. "Freedom?"

Axel laughed and this didn't help the blush on the blonde's cheeks. "I think during my stay here, I'll destroy all copies of _Aladdin_ so I can avoid these misconceptions in the future. Genies aren't allowed freedom. The best we can hope for is someone who doesn't wish their three wishes."

The blond crossed his arms. "I bet they're real inclined to keep you around," he said acerbically.

Axel smirked. "Well, see… I've actually instated a new policy."

"A new policy…" Roxas' eyes narrowed. "You make yourself sound like a shop."

The redhead ignored his assertion. "It's an addendum I'm tacking on. Wish your three wishes, but I'm binding us together and if you make your three wishes, we'll both be stuck in that Hookah pipe for eternity."

Roxas stared and tried to assess all that was happening. A genie was, supposedly, standing in his bedroom. He was suddenly being given the chance to forge his own path by way of wishes. But the forging of his own path wouldn't matter if he would, eventually, be stuck with this redheaded asshole for the rest of his life.

"Do I get to be a genie?"

Axel was torn between irreverent amusement and annoyance. "That's… not how you become a genie."

His brow furrowed. "So what's the point? Your life sucks so you're going to make mine suck too?"

Bemusement crossed his features and he mordantly said, "My life sucks? God, it's a good thing you said something or I never would've known."

"Fine. I'll just… wish myself dead."

"I don't grant retarded wishes."

Roxas breathed out through his nose and Axel pictured him as a cartoon character breathing out steam from the anger he was feeling. He was like a teapot ready to burst and the redhead absolutely adored every moment of his uncomfortable state.

"So I'm just fucked, essentially? I wish three wishes and my life is over?"

"You'll be granted immortality."

Roxas felt like his head was going to explode. "So… so let me make sure I understand."

Axel held up a finger and then grabbed the blonde's desk chair. He wheeled it so it sat right in front of Roxas and then he took a seat, his legs crossed, and feigned extreme interesting in what the blond had to say.

"I get three wishes."

"Mhm."

"But if I make them, I'll literally be stuck in that pipe for eternity. With you."

"Mhm."

"But if I don't make three wishes, I'll be stuck with you until I die."

"Right."

Roxas stared. "You're an asshole. I'd rather spend the next fifty or sixty years with you chained to me than have to spend eternity stuck with you in _that_."

"Your tone is so insulting," Axel drawled. "That pipe happens to be my home and you really should be more hospitable to guests."

"You're basically threatening to stalk me for the rest of my life."

"Oh God, spending the rest of your life with a magical being who could grant your most wanted desires? Jesus, I'm a real monster, aren't I?"

Roxas clenched his fists and his jaw was set. "I wish you were gone."

"Wow, okay, bad listener…" Axel stood and raised his left hand, his palm facing outward. From nowhere, a megaphone appeared in his hand and he examined it before pressing the speaker button and placing the mouthpiece to his lips. "I don't grant stupid wishes."

Roxas put his hands over his ears and gave the genie before him the most hateful, shit-eating look he could possibly muster.

The megaphone disappeared in a puff of pale, red smoke and Axel stretched his arms. "Oh, right. Before I forget…" He reached out and grasped Roxas' left hand. Panic overtook the blond and he attempted to pull away, but found he couldn't. He wasn't sure whether this was magic or if Axel was just really strong.

Axel pushed Roxas' back against his bedroom wall. Fear was expressed in the blonde's eyes and he shut them tight as the genie advanced on him. Suddenly, he felt Axel's nose touch his own and his breath hitched in his chest. Their foreheads were touching. He could feel the genie's breath on his lips. He could feel how tightly Axel was gripping his left hand.

"Relax and take a deep breath."

Roxas obliged.

"Breathe it out."

He obliged again, but he didn't know why.

A sharp, horrible pain shot through his body and Roxas opened his mouth to say something, but the words wouldn't come. It was like having a bad dream. He _needed_ to scream, but he physically couldn't. The pain didn't subside and only intensified and Roxas tried to jerk away from Axel, but he felt paralyzed.

A nasty burning sensation made the fingers on his left hand tingle. The feeling of someone – something – carving something on his left hand only added to Roxas' panic and fear.

He had never felt so terrible. He had never felt such intense, physical pain in his life.

And then it suddenly subsided and Axel pulled away. Roxas breathed deeply and quickly, feeling as if he had run miles and miles and miles. He slid down his bedroom wall and tried to block out what had just happened. His blue eyes met Axel's jade ones and he was shocked to see that the redhead now had two inverted triangles underneath his eyes.

"Your face…" Roxas managed to say. He looked at his left hand and stared at the inverted triangle that had been incised on his skin. "What the fuck? What did you do to me?"

"I was binding us," Axel said simply. "Walk it off, Cupcake. You humans are afraid of practically everything.

"It's natural to be afraid," Roxas snapped.

He hoped to God this was the result of some horrible tumor in his brain.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Okay so… first chapter completed. Just an introduction setting up the story. The main plotline, obviously, is the one surrounding Roxas and Axel. The second plotline surrounds Roxas, Zexion, and Demyx. And the third plotline is about Kairi and her relationship with Roxas and his family. Sora and Riku won't be in this much. I know, as of right now, Riku will appear again as will Sora, but I don't think there will be many scenes with them together.

Um… Don't forget to review. This took me so long to write because beginnings are always really difficult for me. Let me know what you guys think, if the idea is good, if it should be continued, if the changing perspective is okay… Just whatever's on your mind.

As always, **Aindel S. Druida edited this for me so… Give her a big old thanks for the lack of mistakes in this. And while you're busy praising her masterful hold on English, give her profile a gander. Read her stories, ask her to beta for you, look at all the stories she's edited.**

Thanks for reading. Don't forget to review. I do scrap ideas that aren't popular because there is no sense in laboring for hours over these things if no one really cares about it. Another update, if the story isn't scraped, should come about in December.

Thanks!


	2. Be Comfortable, Creature

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters in this story. At all.

_**Warning:**_ Shounen-ai, homosexual relationships, etc, etc.

**Author's Note: **Well, so… This is late. I kept rewriting it and rewriting it and rewriting it… I kept trying to figure out the direction this story should take. I've got the ending all figured out and the beginning was there, but the middle was just a jumbled mess. This is mostly because I didn't want to make this story exactly like _Guilty Conscience_. Axel isn't there to change Roxas.

So… After a lot of deliberation, I think I've got this mostly figured out. I think the point of this story is less about… Changing and being a better person (which is what I was going for, but now I fear this story will be WAY too similar to _GC_) and more about searching for the meaning of life. Basically, I want this story to center around Roxas trying to figure out what to wish for (if he should wish at all). I think… I think asking people, "If you had a genie, what would you wish for?" is a good metaphor for the meaning of life. If you know that they'd wish for millions of dollars, you can assume that what's important to them is money and, for them, the meaning of life can be (more or less) boiled down to money.

Or something. But, so, there ya go. That's the direction I'm going for. Sorry this is late. I think a lot of you know, by now I hope, that I don't like to put stuff out that's total garbage (it's kind of an insult to the readers).

Um… Someone (dixonTICONDEROGA pencils) mentioned that the POV switching was awkward. I think I agree with this. So… Instead of changing the POV throughout the chapter, it's going to be… **Axel's POV **at the start and then third person POV through the rest. Hopefully that's less awkward? But Axel's POV is mucho importante (that's… Spanish… or… whatever) to the story.

Oh, and one more thing: Maybe it's my PC, but are the ffnet profiles displaying strangely? My profile is usually centered with lines separating each section, but now it's all pushed to the left with no lines… And when I go to edit it to fix it, it shows up normal. So… Maybe it's my PC, but I thought I'd ask.

Okay, I swear this is the last thing: **Everyone, click on my username and navigate to my profile. Now navigate to my 'favorite stories.' See that top story? Titled **_**Vulnerabilities**_**? Written by AkumaStrife? Read that. And I don't just mean 'read that because it was written for me.' I mean read that because that whole 'The Importance of Appreciating Authors' thing in my profile **_**was written specifically because of AkumaStrife**_**. She's fucking amazing. Seriously. I have to spew a whole bunch of words to get meaning across, but she says like two words and I'm emotionally drained. So… Read **_**Vulnerabilities. **_**Read **_**Tentative**_**. Read **_**Toothpaste**_**. Read **_**Empty**_**. Read **_**Highwind Auto Repair**_**. Stop reading this and meander over to AkumaStrife's profile and give her the recognition she deserves. **

**Summary:** Roxas hates his family. He hates that his mother and father are separated. He hates his mundane job. He hates his girlfriend. He hates being gay. He hates that his best friend is dying of cancer. He hates, and hates, and hates, and one day his girlfriend buys him a Hookah pipe to cheer him up. And even though he doesn't smoke, he decides to light up anyway because it makes him sad to see his beard cry. So he breathes in and then he breathes out. And before he can accurately comprehend what the fuck is going on, a drop-dead gorgeous genie named Axel is sitting on his bed, yammering about three wishes. And before Roxas can wish his beard away and his life back to normal, Axel tacks on the addendum: "But I'm binding us together and if you make your three wishes, we'll both be stuck in that Hookah pipe for eternity."

* * *

><p><em>Smoking Lamps<em>  
>•••<p>

•••

By: Freekiwi

2 – Be Comfortable, Creature

**In the beginning**, it was strange. Seemingly out of nothing, a galaxy was created and, from nowhere, a planet sat in a point in space. When the light of the sun cascaded over the horizon and filled this strange place with light, a genie was born – much like the planet – out of nothing and from nowhere. A scientific anomaly, maybe, or divine intervention from the hand of a power much greater than any genie, any magician, any sort of living, breathing life form. Genies, in all their grandeur, lack the ability to create, separating us from, what humans have decided to call, God.

Allah.

Yahweh.

The father of Jesus Christ.

The holy creator, for those who are not deficient in faith.

It would perturb people greatly to know that their adored figure of eternal happiness in an immortal afterlife had help from the very start. And it would probably perturb people, unbelievers and pagans as humans have named them, to know that there exists a higher entity.

The very first sunrise over a terrain that was once completely flat created the original genie. He was nothing and then he was smoke and then as the sun crossed the horizon, he was something like man. He walked erect, his brain was large, and he was vastly more civilized than anything – anyone – that would come for centuries. Genies didn't _need_ to develop like humans. They were, and are, spontaneous and whole in the same moment of creation.

But the earth changed as it is wont to do. The continents split apart, mountains were erected and eroded and erected again, people began to evolve and exist and the first genie, quiet, refined, and knowledgeable of everything since the start, became a potent figure in shaping the history of the modern world.

The questions that confound scientists today – "How did the Egyptians build the pyramids? How did Stonehenge come to be? Without the use of precise tools, how were designs carved so perfectly into solid rock and granite?" - would be further confounded if the truth slipped.

It was a genie. The guiding hand that helped shape ancient worlds was powered by magic that not even I can really explain. Some things just _are_, but humans seem to have a problem accepting this notion. Humans want to study, to poke and prod and experiment, and they want to know _why_. _Why, why, why_. And the first genie, free to roam and just _be_, was eventually captured.

Everyone wanted to know _how_ and _why_ and _who_. Everyone wanted a piece of the genie's power. They all wanted the ability to grant wishes. Specifically, they all wanted to grant their _own_ wishes. To no longer be slaves, to no longer be under the thumb of an unmerciful ruler who talked of an even more unmerciful god, and to have some control over their own lives and the way everything would play out.

So they experimented. In Alexandria, where the height of knowledge existed, the genie was subjected to terrible, torturous trials where they attempted to extract his magic, his power, from his body. They controlled his magic by injecting him with drugs. They kept him barely lucid. He was weak and he was frail and the experiments lasted for decades.

Before Alexandria burned to the ground, a scientist by the name of Ansem met with the genie. He had traveled from Greece with a theory that the genie's power may be extracted through his heart, and when he arrived in Alexandria he was treated like a god.

"_Do you have a heart?" Ansem had asked._

"_Yes…" the genie had answered. "It is the adhesive holding my being together."_

The genie was strapped down. They cut a line down his chest. They opened him. They cracked his ribs. And beating in his chest was a heart, as human as could be. Because it was his theory Ansem was the one to confiscate the heart.

He removed the heart. Despite it being unattached, it beat. It whispered 'lub-dub' throughout the room. And though the heart beat in rhythm as if it had not been disturbed, the genie closed his eyes and died.

A fight broke out in Alexandria. Once word had spread that the genie had died at the hands of Ansem, Julius Caesar of Rome sent fleets to Egypt to capture him so he could not escape by sea. Ptolemy I Soter of Egypt sent an army after Ansem so he could not escape by land. He hid in Alexandria briefly before Caesar's troops captured him. In a scuffle, Ansem set fire to Caesar's ship which set fire to the library in Alexandria. The scientist escaped and ran from Egypt.

He returned to his homeland of Greece only to find that there was a bounty on his head for the murder of the genie. The officials in Greece wanted the heart. Ansem became a pariah. He was wanted in China, in Persia, in Babylon, and even nomads in the Arabian Desert knew that he wasn't a god, but a monster.

Sometime before he was captured and killed, Ansem returned to Egypt, to Alexandria where the fire had been, and picked through the remnants. There was a hookah pipe, a lamp, and a Grecian vase. Ansem removed the heart from the case in which he carried it and divided it into three chunks. He placed a piece of the heart in each scavenged item and then buried the lamp in the sand at Alexandria. He buried the Grecian vase near his homeland of Greece. And before he could find a place to bury the hookah pipe, he was caught and beheaded.

The hookah pipe was regarded as trash and tossed into the Mediterranean Sea.

And what happened from there… Well, that's where my story begins.

••••••••••••••

**She didn't question **it when she first saw him. The slim, redheaded man with the tattooed face who sat perched on the sill of her son's bedroom window wasn't cause for alarm. He gazed out into the horizon, a thousand yard stare seeming to subdue any other emotion he may have been feeling, and watched as the sun rose.

"Are you all right?" she called from the porch below him. It was a Sunday. The bakeshop was closed and Roxas' mother, who never slept in, had meandered outside with a mug of coffee and a newspaper.

Axel blinked and craned his neck, looking down and giving the woman a once-over. "I'm all right," he called. "Just watching the sun rise."

He assumed, based on the way she looked, that this was Roxas' mother. He expected her to question him about his whereabouts and what he was doing. He expected her to ask where Roxas was and why Axel was sitting on the sill of her son's window. He expected her to say anything, really, and when she merely nodded and took a seat in a rocking chair below the window on the back porch, Axel was torn between confusion and amusement.

"Don't you want to know who I am?" he called down to her.

She tiled her head back and looked at him for a moment. "Okay. Who are you?" Really, she just wanted to enjoy her coffee and read the morning paper.

"I'm Axel."

"Pleased to meet you," she called. A small bit of silence passed between them and then she rustled her paper and began to read the headlining story.

"Aren't… Aren't you curious as to why –"

"No," she said plainly. "I assume you're one of his friends."

Axel's shoulders fell slightly and his eyes narrowed somewhat. Her lack of curiosity both intrigued him and bothered him. All the previous times he had been released from his pipe, people had wanted to know who he was and where he had come from and why he had just suddenly shown up. But Roxas' mother was a rare case. Neutral was probably a decent word to describe her, but apathetic seemed like a better one.

"I'm a genie," he called to her.

She nodded her head slowly and appeared to not be listening. "Well, Roxas studied at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Perhaps you two could have a duel."

Axel blushed and for the first time in probably centuries, he was somewhat embarrassed. The reaction he had been expecting was one of denial, perhaps one that would spark an argument about the nature of his being. Her sarcastic remark, her derisive tone… It made him feel stupid and he immediately decided that he did not like her. _He_ was supposed to make humans feel stupid. It wasn't supposed to be the other way around.

Annoyed, he climbed back into Roxas' bedroom and closed the window. The blond, who had begun to stir, sat up and rubbed tiredly at his eyes. A combination of dread, discomfort, and aggravation surged through him when he saw Axel, the hallucination that wouldn't disappear, standing at the foot of his bed looking…

He looked something, but Roxas didn't know what this something was.

"Jesus," the blond groaned. He lied back down and ran his fingers through his hair. "Why?"

Axel paced the length of the bed. "Well, they say that it all began in Genesis when –"

"No." Roxas sat up and gave him a sour look. "Why are you still here?"

"Isn't it a bit early to be looking so murderous, dear?" the redhead drawled.

Irritation shot through him and he rolled out of bed. He had been hoping that, perhaps after a full night's rest, he wouldn't be seeing Axel anymore. He was hoping that when he looked at his hand, there wouldn't be a deep green, inverted triangle on the back of it. He was hoping that when he awoke, his life would be a lot different.

And he was disappointed when it wasn't.

"What's on the agenda for today?"

Roxas felt his eyebrow twitch. "Nothing."

"Well, you're in for a treat because I just so happen to be the best at doing nothing," he responded cheerily.

The blond gave the other a rather dire, uncompromising look. "I don't understand this. If I don't want you around, why can't you just… leave me alone?"

Axel took a seat on the end of Roxas' bed. He crossed his legs at the knee and leaned back somewhat, using his hands to support the weight of his upper body. "Aren't humans social creatures?"

Roxas walked over to his dresser and began to paw through it aggressively.

"You're quite hateful, Roxas. I bet they make a pill for that."

The blond gripped a t-shirt tightly in his hand. "I wish you would shut up."

Axel looked mildly amused. "Are you sure you want to waste one of your three wishes on something like that? You could just _ask_ me to shut up."

He hesitated for a moment and glanced at the other from over his shoulder. "Okay… Will you _please_ stop talking?"

The redhead let out an audible sigh and pretended to think about what he should do. "Hm… Well… Gee… hm… You know… No."

Roxas slammed the drawer to his dresser and thought bitterly to himself, _"I should have known better."_

••••••••••••••

"**So… Your mom **doesn't give a shit about you."

Roxas sighed heavily through his nose as he splashed cool water from the bathroom sink onto his face.

"She didn't even care about who I was or where I came from."

He pulled the hand towel off the rack and began to pat and rub his face dry.

"She said you went to some high school called Hogwarts."

The blond hung the towel back up and opened the medicine cabinet. He grabbed out his toothbrush and toothpaste, untwisting the cap and squeezing a bit of the minty stuff onto the bristles of his brush.

"You know, Roxas, you shouldn't squeeze the tub in the middle."

He placed the toothbrush in his mouth and began to scrub at his teeth, doing his best to ignore the obnoxious attraction that was following him around.

"You shouldn't brush so hard. You'll erode your gum line."

Roxas spit into the sink and then began to scrub his tongue.

"What? Do you have no gag reflex? I bet you're pretty popular with all the boys."

Annoyed, but trying his best to ignore it, he rinsed the head of his toothbrush off and then rinsed his mouth. He wiped his hands on the hand towel and then removed his shirt and his pants before walking passed Axel and back into his bedroom.

Of course the redhead diligently followed.

"Maybe you should wish for a hamburger. I can see your bones."

Roxas shot Axel a dirty look and grabbed the t-shirt he had placed on his bed. He yanked it over his head and then, quite unceremoniously, removed his boxers.

"You could also wish for a bit of modesty," Axel chided. A smirk crossed his lips and he opened his mouth to speak, but the blond beat him to it.

"If you say I should wish for a bigger dick, I swear to God…" He pulled a pair of clean boxers over his legs followed by a pair of jeans. Axel was still smirking, but kept his remarks to himself.

Roxas ran a hand through his hair and let a small sigh escape his lips. After a moment of deliberation, he walked over to the genie's pipe and began to dismember it. The case that it had come in sat opened on his bed, waiting for the pieces to be placed inside.

"Are you taking my house on a trip?" the redhead asked curiously.

"I'm returning you."

"Returning me," he said flatly. "How… Banal."

Roxas shrugged his shoulders in response. He placed each piece of the pipe in the case, shutting the lid and snapping it closed.

"Darling, you're the one that summoned me. Perhaps you could wish for the ability to take responsibility for your actions."

His eyebrows came together and he glared. "I didn't _mean_ to summon you."

Axel laughed delightedly. "Give me a break."

"I didn't!" he whined.

"So you honestly thought smoking the red shisha would have no negative consequences?" Axel asked smugly.

The blond blushed lightly. "I… I didn't know it would mean having the biggest dick in the world follow me around."

"How do you think I feel? I'm stuck following the stumpiest dick around," Axel teased.

Roxas' cheeks, which were already a light pink, became a dark shade of red. "Shut up!" he snapped. He roughly gripped the handle of the hookah case and he and the genie exchanged a look. It annoyed and unnerved him that Axel was so calm and collected and appeared to largely be unbothered by anything.

"You know the Smoking Lamp isn't even open…" the redhead pointed out as Roxas walked out of his bedroom and down the hallway. "I mean… It's been about twenty-six years since I was last free, but I'm pretty sure hookah shops don't open up at eight in the morning on a Sunday."

Roxas placed his hand on the handle of the front door and gave the other a dirty look from over his shoulder. "Fine. I'll just return you to Naminé and let her deal with you."

The redhead shrugged a little helplessly. "Fine." He wouldn't bother to point out that he and Roxas were bound and that even if the blond _could _pawn him off onto someone else, the invisible rope holding them together would just tie itself into a noose and strangle the moody teen.

It was a byproduct of being bound. Axel was still awaiting the hell fire that he was sure would rain from the sky when Roxas discovered he could most certainly die if he allowed himself to get too far away from the genie. And the redhead kind of liked the idea that he had more control over his master than his master had over him.

Axel followed Roxas about twenty feet back as they walked out the front door. It was the clear the blond had little to no interest in speaking with the genie and the redhead, knowing this would pass, allowed the younger boy to continue his temper tantrum until the dooming knowledge that his fate was wholly inevitable came to full realization. Roxas could only ignore the issue for so long.

"Is Naminé your girlfriend?" Axel asked as he followed the other down the sidewalk. He saw Roxas' shoulders tense. "I guess not."

"No," he snapped. "She is. I just… don't want to talk to you."

The taller of the two arched a brow. "Your lie is pathetic. Do I need to explain to you that I've been alive for…" He paused for a moment. "Forever," he decided, "and I can see through your lie."

His jaw clenched and he gripped the handle of the hookah case tightly. "Don't pretend like you understand me or like… like you know anything at all."

Axel rolled his eyes and a sardonic smile graced his handsome features. "Oh, you're right, dear Roxas. In all the humans I've ever known in all the different time periods I've ever lived, what could I ever understand about teenaged angst? As being a non-human entity, what could I possibly know about being misunderstood? You're right, darling, you're just the _rarest_ of gems in a cosmic sea of rubble."

Roxas breathed deeply through his nose before rounding on Axel. "Shut your mouth or I'll smash the pipe." He loosened his grip on the case and he and the genie stared heatedly at one another.

"Always resorting to violence… Humans have never surprised me."

"All I'm hearing is, 'Please, Master, grind my pipe into dust.'"

Axel's eyes narrowed into slits and he shrugged his shoulders, brushing off the other's fit and threat with an air of 'I don't care.' But he had fallen into silence and Roxas knew that this was a sign of submission. He didn't know what kind of mayhem could occur if he smashed the pipe and he didn't particularly care. He had forced Axel to retreat and that was all that mattered.

The rest of the walk to Naminé's house was silent. When they reached her doorstep, Roxas reached under the welcome mat and grabbed the extra key. Brusquely, he unlocked the front door and opened it. He didn't knock, he didn't make himself known, and, instead, he walked up the steps and down the hall to Naminé's room.

Axel followed, though hesitantly, because even though he didn't know Naminé he had a feeling they were about to badly frighten her. Roxas had, essentially, just committed a breaking and entering and Axel had a feeling in his stomach that the majority of young women didn't enjoy being awakened by their irate boyfriends early on a Sunday morning.

He thought to ask if Roxas was the woman-beater type, but decided that this may only enrage him further.

"Naminé," the blond said with finality when he entered her room. He walked over to her bed and gave her shoulder a shake. "Nam, get up."

"Mm…"

"Naminé," Roxas repeated. "We have a problem."

She stirred and slowly opened her eyes. The blurry figures of Roxas and the unknown man behind him caused alarm to rise in her chest and she immediately sat up, her first instinct to scream.

And Roxas' reaction to her screaming was to cover her mouth.

Axel rubbed the bridge of his nose and watched the whole situation slowly roll downhill.

"Stop screaming!" Roxas commanded which only earned him a swift kick to the stomach. He dropped the case and placed an arm over his midsection. He clenched his jaw and gave his girlfriend a seething look.

Naminé, who had stopped screaming and finally recognized her boyfriend, blushed. "Oh my God." She hopped up from the bed and put a hand on Roxas' shoulder. "Oh my God, are you okay? I'm so sorry, I –"

"Don't touch me." He jerked back from her and tried to ignore the dull throb in his stomach. "What is _wrong_ with you?"

She blushed harder. "I… I thought… You just came in here and I –"

"We've been dating forever, Nam. You should know who I am and what I look like by now."

She fell silent and looked away, her shoulders sagging slightly with the weight of her embarrassment and Roxas' anger.

Axel raised a brow and looked between them. This was nothing new. He had seen many abusive relationships and he had been the victim (and aggressor) in many of these. Victims of incessant bullying, when armed with the power of a genie, felt they were unstoppable. And usually, the consequences of this 'unstoppable' mentality resulted in death.

"Are… Are you okay?" the girl asked unsurely. "You're over here so early, I…" Her words trailed off and she rubbed nervously at her arm. For a brief moment, she and Axel made eye contact, but then she quickly dropped it and looked away.

"Don't be embarrassed, dear," Axel stated lightly. "It's Roxas that looks like an ass right now. I would have kicked him too."

Roxas looked livid. "You're making it worse," he informed.

Naminé tried to stay neutral though she did want to thank the redhead for coming to her defense. It wasn't as if she couldn't protect herself (she was quite able), but she loved Roxas very deeply and she knew (she hoped) that there was something inherently wrong with him. His negative disposition was the result of some hardships in his life. They had nothing to do with her. She hoped.

Roxas picked up the hookah case and shoved it at his girlfriend. "Take this. I don't want it."

Naminé looked shocked. She wrapped her arms around the case and tried to refrain from seeming hurt. "What? Why? What's wrong with it?"

He pointed to the redhead. "That. That's what's wrong with it. So take your stupid pipe and leave me alone."

She didn't understand, but she certainly wanted to. She looked from Roxas, who was practically foaming at the mouth, and then at Axel who seemed quite calm and unbothered by the other's fit.

"I… I don't…" She began, but stopped for fear of sounding stupid.

"I don't get it either, darling," Axel drawled from the doorway of Naminé's room. "We met yesterday at the bakery and he invited me to his place to smoke some shisha. That hookah is quite beautiful, by the way. You made an excellent selection." He was only assuming the girl had purchased the pipe because of Roxas' decision to give it back to her.

She tried her best to not be confused by his sincerity. "Thank… you…?"

"You're welcome," he said cheerily. "You'll have to excuse Roxas. The shisha we smoked must have had quite a negative effect. He's been having rather bad hallucinations."

The blonde's cheeks were so red, he looked liable to explode. "That's not…" He began through gritted teeth. "He's _lying_."

Naminé looked between both of them. "Uh…"

"Come now, Roxas," Axel said smoothly. "You don't need to lie to your girlfriend. Tell her all about the genie and how he bound you two together." The derision in his voice made the blonde's blood boil.

"He's a genie!" the boy yelled, an accusatory finger pointing at Axel. "He… He _did_ bind us together, Nam! Look at my hand!" He shoved his left hand in her face and she stared at it with concern in her large, blue eyes.

"Oh yes," the redhead began before the girl could speak. "Before we smoked the shisha, Roxas decided he wanted a tattoo because he liked the ones I have on my face. We had a bit of a wild night, but I assure you Roxy was a good boy."

"Shut up!" Roxas roared, causing Naminé to take a step back from him. "Shut your stupid face! Nam, he's _lying_!" he whined. "He's a fucking liar! He's a genie! He came out of the pipe when I smoked the shisha! And then he… he cursed me! We're bound! And if I make three wishes, he'll trap me in his stupid pipe!"

Axel sighed lightly. "I'm so sorry you have to witness this, dear. He's been manic like this since the hallucinations began. I'm sure the effects will wear off soon."

Naminé stared and tried to compose herself. She didn't know what to say. Of course she wanted to believe her boyfriend (though he often did lie to her), but his story made no sense. She had also never seen Roxas act like this before and this was causing her to place more truth on the redhead's story despite having never met him before.

"Do you want to lie down?" she asked Roxas.

"No!" the blond roared. "I want you to believe me!" He grasped her shoulders and stared into her eyes. "I'm not hallucinating, Naminé! That pipe is _cursed_! I'm _cursed_!"

She bit her lower lip and remembered what the store owner, Riku, had said about the pipe. He had said the story was made up to generate hype, but… Could it be coincidence? She looked Axel up and down and frowned deeply when she noticed he fit the description of the man in Riku's story. The inverted triangles on his face… The one now on Roxas' left hand…

"Um…" Naminé began unsurely. "Do you know the story about this pipe…?"

Roxas released her and he looked highly intrigued. "What story?"

Axel waved his hand dismissively. "It's ancient folklore. A long time ago, back when cursed objects and female power became popular, someone created a story about a man who betrayed his wife. She slit his throat, carved the inverted triangles under his eyes – it's the sign for femininity – and then carved the same sign on her hand so everyone would know her power. She then burned her husband and, depending on what object you're trying to hock onto people, she sprinkled the ashes on the item, placed them inside the item, or whatever, and essentially cursed the object."

Roxas glanced at the case Naminé was clutching.

"Anything with an inverted green triangle has the same story attached to it," the redhead explained. "Did you hear the story when you purchased the pipe?" he asked curiously.

She nodded slowly. "Yea… It… It's just… You fit the description so well, I –"

"I heard the story back when I was young. I got the tattoos as soon as I turned eighteen because I love folklore and it was my favorite story," he lied smoothly.

Axel actually hated folklore. And the story Naminé referred to was the one the owner of the Smoking Lamp had made up. Axel had heard him tell it a hundred times before and he knew it wasn't real.

Naminé made a face and then looked at Roxas who looked completely flabbergasted.

"You… You _knew_ it was _cursed_ and gave it to me?" he roared. "Where have you been? I don't need cursed objects to make my life hell! The universe does a fine job WITHOUT help!"

Axel's eyes narrowed. "Roxas," he barked. "Perhaps we need to leave. I fear your hallucinations may get worse if –"

"I'm not fucking hallucinating!" he yelled. "I'm not!"

Naminé set the hookah case down and placed a gentle hand on her boyfriend's shoulder. "Roxas, listen… The man at the Smoking Lamp, Riku, told me the story, but then told me it was made up. I think you need to go see a doctor. I think you're having a bad reaction to –"

He jerked away from her and gave her the most hateful, terrible look he could possibly muster. "Why don't you believe me?" he asked venomously. "Why would I lie about something like this?"

Naminé didn't respond.

Axel, who was tiring of this, leaned against the doorway and turned his head slightly to the left. A thin, green vine slithered past the redhead and across the girl's bedroom floor. Stealthily, it wrapped itself around Roxas' wrist and gave him a yank.

Naminé looked concerned and then confused as her boyfriend began to struggle against some sort of invisible force. He jerked his arm toward his body, he hissed at the invisible thing to 'let go,' and used his other hand to scratch and pull at his wrist.

Worried, the blond girl grabbed his arm. "You're going to hurt yourself!"

Roxas' jaw clenched. "Do you not see the vine?"

Her blue eyes met with Axel's and he shrugged. Casually, he turned his head to the right and the vine slithered away just as quickly as it had come. Axel smirked and Roxas' lips drew into a thin, white line.

"Oh… Okay, Roxas…" she said unsurely. "Why don't you go with…" She realized she hadn't caught the man's name and she looked at the redhead for an explanation.

"Axel," he said coolly. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Why don't you go with Axel?" she said gently. "I'll check in with you later."

Roxas felt the hairs on his neck rise. "I'm not crazy!" he yelled. "A vine had my wrist! Axel's a genie, Nam!"

The desperation in his voice scared her and she half-nodded her head in faux affirmation.

A frustrated sound left him and Roxas stormed out of the room, shoving past Axel and pausing for the briefest of moments when their bodies touched. Something bad, something that felt like the chill of death, briefly fogged his mind and he was, momentarily, badly confused. But then he was out of Axel's reach and the feeling lifted and all his fury washed over him again.

"Why don't you get some sleep? I'll take care of him," Axel assured. He kept a distance from her as he retrieved his pipe from near her bedside. "I'm sure once the hallucinations wear off, he'll be much less… angry."

Naminé didn't seem wholly convinced on that last thought (Roxas was quite good at finding things to be upset about), but she just sort of dumbly nodded.

The redhead made a move to leave the room, but paused when the blond girl called his name.

"Um… Thanks," she mumbled. "For… For defending me."

A little smirk graced his lips and he gave her a single nod before exiting her bedroom.

••••••••••••••

"**I can't believe **you!" Roxas shouted. "How could you do that?"

"Well, it did weigh heavy on my conscience, Roxas, seeing as how you've got such a positive temperament and you know just how to treat everyone," Axel said sardonically. After they had left Naminé's house and walked for, what felt like, hours, they had stopped at a little diner. It was at Roxas' discretion, of course, and Axel wasn't going to argue with him.

The redhead didn't care what they did or didn't do. His job was to follow Roxas and, if he kept up his sour attitude, make his life increasingly difficult until he had something _real_ to be upset over.

"You lied to her! You made me look like an ass!"

Axel noticed the stares the other patrons of the diner were giving them. "You didn't need my help to look like an ass," the redhead said darkly. "Weren't you ever taught to use your indoor voice?"

The blond glanced around the diner. "If their own lives were interesting, they wouldn't need to _stare_," he said quite loudly.

Axel sighed. "You're something, you know that?"

Roxas sagged in his seat and stared at the genie. "I'm just helping perpetuate that negative stereotype you have of humans."

"No, you're not. You're just a whiny brat who's angry because he isn't getting his way. Has throwing a tantrum ever worked for you? Or do you enjoy making everyone within an eight mile radius know that behind your adult body there's a pissed off six year old?"

Roxas' eyes narrowed. "You're the one that makes me this way."

"Yes, it's always someone else's fault. How new and different."

The blond leaned forward and dropped his voice. "I swear to God, Axel, shut your fucking mouth or –"

"No." Axel curled his fingers on the tabletop to form a dome. His eyes blazed a bright, almost furious green, and the light around them seem to dim considerably. Time seemed to slow. A burning sensation erupted on the left side, almost the center, of Roxas' chest and all the color drained from his face. "You're beginning to annoy me. I have an infinite amount of power and I will cease to control all semblance of humility if your tantrum doesn't stop."

The beating of his heart seemed to slow and Roxas didn't have the strength to respond. Axel dragged his domed hand across the table, toward himself, and the blond lurched forward. His heart seemed to be pressing against his ribcage and Roxas had the distinct notion that Axel was using him as a puppet.

"I will squeeze your heart…" He closed his fingers and an involuntary gasp of pain left the blonde's lips. "Until it bursts. Do you understand?"

A choked, "Yes," left his lips and just as suddenly as he had been captured, he was released. The lights were no longer dimmed, everyone moved at a normal pace, and the only thing that had seemed to change was Roxas . He was breathing heavily and gripping his chest and that calm, cool, collected look on Axel's face was gone.

Their eyes met briefly. The veins in Axel's neck throbbed and the hand he had used to squeeze Roxas' heart bled freely into his lap where he had placed it. At first, the redhead had assumed it was his blood, but the warmth, the ruby red color, and the coppery smell told him otherwise.

Axel obviously didn't know his own power. He had meant to send the other a message, not almost kill him. Uncomfortably, he cleared his throat and pretended to glance at a menu. A lot had changed since the last time he had had freedom from his pipe.

This included the sudden increase in his power.

••••••••••••••

**Demyx was limping** something fierce, but his expression failed to show whether or not he was in pain. Though Zexion was gripping his arm and trying to force the other to lean against him for support, Demyx walked at a steady pace and of his own volition. He had never really needed help in his life and he didn't really want to start taking it now. The only reason he was allowing doctors to poke and prod at him in their little laboratory setting was because Zexion was forcing him.

They rarely fought (Demyx was much too care free to have a real opinion about anything), but they had experienced a rather bad argument the previous night. Demyx had stoutly refused to participate in the bone marrow test and asserted that Zexion couldn't make him do anything. And Zexion, in all his powerful, aggressive glory, gave his boyfriend an ultimatum:

Have the test done or get out.

Because Zexion really couldn't watch the other wither away when some forms of cancer were so curable. As a student of medicine, he really couldn't let his boyfriend commit a slow and painful suicide because he hated hospitals and he hated being assisted.

Demyx was of the opinion that if he was meant to survive, he would. There would be no external assistance. He hadn't been to the doctor in ten years before he had met Zexion. He had only ever had one tetanus shot and had never taken medicine for any illnesses he had ever had. This all rapidly changed when he had collided with Zexion's heavily medicated life.

"I'm fine," he grumbled, though not unhappily. Zexion attempted to help him sit in a waiting room chair and Demyx half-jokingly swatted him away. Pain erupted through him when he flopped down in the seat and Zexion gave him an "I told you so" look before meandering over to the front desk to pay the expensive tab.

"I think we should find out if something is wrong before we pay!" Demyx called. "And I think it should be free if I have cancer! A bonus, you know? Like getting free bread at those fancy Italian restaurants! Free bone marrow test with every positive cancer reading!"

Zexion's cheeks heated slightly. "He's… Uh… Clinically insane."

The secretary seemed wholly uninterested and only appeared involved when she took the check from the short boy's hands.

"Um…" He leaned forward slightly and said very quietly. "Do you know when the results…?"

"I'm not a medical professional," she said flatly. "And your friend is struggling to stand. You may want to go help him."

Zexion glanced over his shoulder and let out a tired sounding sigh when he saw that Demyx was, indeed, trying to stand without causing himself serious pain. He made a b-line over to the other and tried to, quite unsuccessfully, help him.

"Hey, look, Zex, I got it. Seriously. If you weren't here, I'd be all on my own."

"No. You'd have Roxas," he corrected.

Demyx, managing to finally stand, rolled his eyes. "Roxas wouldn't make me do all this. We'd go out for cold ones and just keep toasting until I hit the ground."

The hair on Zexion's neck rose and he shook his head. "You aren't going to die."

The blond looked uncomfortable. "I meant hit the ground like… passed out drunk."

He ignored Demyx and, instead, wrapped an arm around the tall boy's waist and helped him (with much chagrin on the blonde's end) out of the hospital. Zexion released his death grip on the other and mumbled, "Wait here" while he ventured into the parking lot to find his car. He was heavily distracted. Hospitals had never bothered him before, but now that there loomed a possibility that maybe Demyx was sick…

Zexion released a very controlled sigh through his nose.

"Relax."

He jumped and gave Demyx a very serious, very annoyed look. "I told you to wait," he snapped.

He arched a blond brow. "Yea. I heard you."

"Demyx, why are you so oppositional? You just had a bone marrow biopsy. You're in pain. Just take my help."

He shook his head. "No. No… I don't need help, Zex. I'll be okay."

The shorter boy shook his head. "You don't know that! And if you… if you do have… have it…"

Demyx looked away, his cheeks a little pink. "It," he mumbled. "You mean cancer?"

Zexion gripped his car keys tightly in his hand. "You could be anemic. Or… Or you just have an infection or maybe a rare blood disorder or –"

"I probably have cancer," Demyx stated with a firm sense of neutrality. "It happens."

The slate haired boy stared hard at his feet and he clenched his jaw. "You don't know it's…" He trailed off. "It could be anything or… or even nothing."

"As a medical student, I feel like you should be able to say cancer," Demyx pointed out somewhat jokingly.

"I can say cancer just fine!" Zexion snapped. "I just can't put your name and cancer together unless it's to say, 'Demy doesn't have cancer. Demy will never have cancer. Demy and cancer will never ever cross paths.'"

The blond licked his suddenly dry lips and folded his arms awkwardly over his chest. "Sorry."

"You're insensitive," Zexion mumbled.

And Demyx smiled a little because in the course of a single day, their positions had totally switched. Now Demyx was the insensitive clod saying all the wrong things at the worst possible times and Zexion was the one with the sudden surge of negative emotions and unhappy thoughts.

"Well, not for long," Demyx teased. "As we speak, the cancer is probably eating away –"

Zexion turned on his heel and stormed angrily away from the other.

"Oh, come on! I was just kidding!" he called as he limped after his boyfriend in all his handicapped glory.

••••••••••••••

**They were outside** the Smoking Lamp and neither of them said anything. Roxas' fury had died when Axel had so lovingly given his heart a literal squeeze and the redhead noticed that his master was much more appealing when he wasn't throwing a tantrum. The genie paced the length of the store front slowly. Roxas, who seemed to be suffering severe exhaustion, sat with his back slumped against the front door of the Smoking Lamp.

"Humans are weak," Axel stated from nowhere.

Roxas opened his mouth to respond, but decided it was too much effort and just sort of shrugged.

Axel continued to pace. "Stupid, too."

The blond rolled his head onto his shoulder and let a faint sigh leave his frail body. Why the redhead was now trying to purposefully goad him into a fight, he wasn't sure. But he was really tired and didn't want to fight and he didn't want Axel to do… whatever he had done to him at the diner. His heart was beating much more slowly now. Roxas, normally, had a heart rate in the 70s. If he took his pulse, he was sure his heart would have a rate in the 40s. Not deadly, but not exactly comfortable.

"You know… The Smoking Lamp doesn't accept returns."

Roxas glanced up at Axel, who had stopped pacing, and shrugged. "Why are you talking? Trying to alleviate some guilt?"

He scoffed. "Genies don't feel guilt." He said this as if it were fact, but he honestly didn't really know for sure. Certainly Axel had never experienced guilt before. Humans, in his opinion, often got what they deserved.

Roxas was throwing him for a loop though. Axel had felt fairly confident that his moody, tantrum throwing master deserved to be put in his place, but seeing Roxas in such a weakened state worried Axel.

He was still turning over in his mind whether this was a feeling of _guilt _or if he was just consumed by his own selfish need to stay alive. If Roxas died, Axel wouldn't exactly be enjoying a carefree life of freedom. If genies could kill their masters and attain freedom, they would do it all the time. Axel didn't practice this himself, but he knew of genies that would kill innocent bystanders because the pent up rage could not be unleashed on their masters.

Axel didn't like humans, but he didn't believe anyone deserved to suffer unjustly.

More silence prevailed and the redhead glanced inside the window of the Smoking Lamp to see if perhaps someone was inside. Roxas looked up at him and gently ran his fingers over the front of the hookah case that sat cradled in his lap.

The taller of the two sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. It was nearing eleven in the morning and they had been sitting outside the shop for nearly an hour. He was actually rather impatient when it came to waiting. He hadn't always been that way, but he supposed long entrapments in such a confined space had molded him into someone different.

Or… Something different. He wasn't really a someone.

Roxas stood and let the case fall from his lap. Axel felt the corner of his lip twitch when he heard it clatter to the sidewalk, but he tried to keep his composure. He didn't exactly need Roxas to know that it would be quite easy to control him if the safety of his pipe was threatened.

"What are you doing?" Axel asked, trying his best to seem casual.

"Checking the store hours," Roxas mumbled. His brow furrowed and he ran a hand through his hair when he saw that the Smoking Lamp was closed on Sundays. This shouldn't have come as a surprise to Roxas who knew very well that most businesses in his town, with the exception of restaurants, were closed on Sundays.

Axel watched as the blond picked up the case with the pipe in it. He carelessly tossed it to the redhead who fumbled it for a moment before catching it.

"This is glass, you know," the genie snapped. "You could at least pretend you're trying to be careful with it."

Roxas ignored him and began walking down the sidewalk. Axel hesitated for a moment because part of him wanted to see his master fall on all fours, choking because of the invisible noose that had affixed itself to his neck. But then he followed at a distance and decided that maybe he should cut the sickly looking kid a break.

••••••••••••••

**As soon as **they had entered Roxas' house and traveled up the steps to his bedroom, the blond collapsed onto his bed and immediately passed out. After a moment of deliberation, Axel decided maybe it would benefit both of them if he perhaps took the other's pulse. If Roxas died due to his magical folly, he would be in a sizeable amount of trouble. Genies didn't have many rules, but the ones they did have often resulted in dire consequences if broken.

And there wasn't some magical authority, like a supreme genie, that would come down and reign hellfire on Axel. He would just burst into flames and slowly burn until he was nothing but a clump of dark, smoldering ash, waiting to swept away by the wind. It was a rule that Axel had dubbed, "An eye for an eye" and it was the first rule. Ansem had taken the first genie's life and, in return, his life had been taken too.

The redhead approached Roxas' sleeping form and hesitated for a moment. Over the span of his lifetime, he had deduced quite a few things about humans. They were more creatures than anything else what with the way they treated each other. They weren't exactly trustworthy and they often brought offensive harm to one another, usually for no reason at all. Axel could spend three lifetimes ranting about all the cons humanity offered, but at some point he would have to stop, draw in a breath, and list the singular pro.

Humans were warm down to their core. Their blood flowed warm. They had a body temperature comparable to a warm, summer day. They could sweat and exude heat like a radiator. And genies were opposite. Somewhere along the line (and Axel didn't know where or when or how) genies had missed some sort of… substantial moment in which they ceased to be cold blooded. Maybe it was the lack of an evolutionary process that caused all genies to be this way, but this assertion wasn't based in fact.

Axel was hesitant to touch Roxas because of this. His unnaturally low body temperature wouldn't harm his master (at least not physically), but it had the power to greatly fog his mind, to mar his judgment making abilities, and to cause severe, devastating sadness. And Roxas' heat, when Axel had smeared the other's blood all over his hand by mistake, had become desirable.

Spending so many lifetimes with an icy core was difficult when he had, at some point in time, felt the overwhelming warmth of a human body. His hand, which usually was bitter cold to the touch, was still faintly warm from where he had mistakenly harmed Roxas.

His tongue flickered out and he licked his lips. His hesitation delayed him a moment further, but then he touched his cold, slender fingers to the other's wrist. The contact, though it was small and only lasted for a second, caused Axel's cheeks to flush pink and sparked urgency in his chest. Roxas' heart was beating. Slowly, but it was beating.

The genie backed away from the other's sleeping form and curled his suddenly warm, rose colored digits into the palm of his hand. When he had bound himself and the blond, Axel had taken note of the other's body temperature. He had desired to continue the contact, but there had been a distinct possibility that Roxas could have died.

Axel really didn't know much about his own power anymore.

In a rare moment of sincerity, the genie grabbed a soft, plush blanket from the back of Roxas' desk chair and tossed it (somewhat unkindly) over the other's body. After a moment, he leaned over and spread the blanket out, covering the other and noting how much more he liked Roxas when he wasn't running his stupid mouth.

A sigh parted his lips and he wandered over to his master's window. He gazed out into the morning sky and mumbled something like, "Be comfortable, creature."

••••••••••••••

**Zexion was refusing** to speak with him and Demyx didn't help the other's ban of silence by saying wildly insensitive things like, "You should talk to me now. You know… _before_ the cancer spreads and I'm bald, puking, and can barely sputter a sentence."

"_You can barely sputter a sentence now," _Zexion thought bitterly.

Their drive from the hospital had been painfully silent. Demyx, who didn't mean to offend his boyfriend, couldn't help but try and make the situation as light as possible. He didn't deal well with heavy, heartbreaking news. He had trouble coping with news that upset him. So instead he joked like nothing in life was really that big a deal.

The only thing he never joked about was the state of his and Zexion's relationship. Demyx insisted it was simply out of respect for his boyfriend, but everyone knew better. The blond didn't joke about it because it was much too painful for him to even entertain the possibility that Zexion could easily leave him.

Zexion was the one dating _down_, after all. Demyx really wasn't good enough for him and everyone knew it.

"You suck at coping," the baker said brightly from his spot on their couch. He was lazily flipping through muted television channels because, despite his silence, Zexion was insisting with all sorts of crazy gestures that Demyx needed to rest.

The medical student rolled his eyes and steeped a tea bag in a mug of hot water.

"Because, look, we better assume the worst. That way, when we get my test results and I _don't_ have cancer, think how happy we'll be. Our expectations will be exceeded. But if we walk around insisting I _don't_ have cancer and if we refuse to even entertain it as a real possibility, we're just setting ourselves up to be disappointed."

Zexion roughly set the mug of hot, sweetened tea down on their coffee table. Some of it sloshed out the side and Demyx arched a single, blond brow.

"You suck at coping," he repeated.

Zexion glared at his boyfriend and sat on the far end on the couch, away from the other. "I'm so sorry I don't want to joke about the state of your health."

"If you don't laugh, you'll cry," Demyx chided. "And I thought you were ignoring me."

"My ignoring you isn't exactly keeping you from shutting your mouth." He brought the warm mug to his lips and sipped from it.

"All right, look…" Demyx, quite uncomfortably, slid over to the other and draped an arm over his shoulders. "Let's be real for a sec. What are you going to do if I have cancer?"

Zexion set his tea down and stood up, but Demyx immediately wrapped his arms around the other's waist and yanked him down onto his lap.

"Don't struggle," he warned. "My ass hurts a lot from that stupid test."

Zexion's eyes narrowed and he sat rigid. "I don't want to talk about this."

"I do," Demyx said quite seriously. "Because, look, Zexy… I suck at making plans. You've had your future laid out since you were two. I've never made plans that didn't come to fruition within 24 hours. And do you see that? I just used the word fruition. You're good for me. That has nothing to do with what I'm getting at, but I just want you to know that you're good for me. And my vocabulary."

Zexion tried to repress a little smile.

"But I don't… I don't know what to do. And if I am sick, I'm gonna need your help. I don't know anything about… about chemotherapy or hospitals or being sick. What I do know comes from movies and television. I just… I wanna be prepared. If you're going to force me to seek medical help, I wanna be prepared."

Zexion relaxed somewhat in the other's grasp and breathed a little sigh through his nose.

"And… you know… I love you, Zexy. I love you so much. But… Do you think you could maybe get off my lap? I'm not saying you're fat, but your weight is putting some serious pressure on my tuckus."

He rolled his eyes and slipped off the other without hesitation. But he kept close to Demyx and grasped his hand, somewhat aggressively lacing their fingers together in a sentiment that shouted defeat.

Demxy leaned down slightly and pressed a terribly wet, sloppy kiss to Zexion's cheek. "I wanna know what's gonna happen to you if I di–"

The shorter of the two shook his head quite furiously. "No. No. We can… We can make a plan for what to do if you're sick and… and we can be prepared for you _being_ sick, but I can't prepare for your…" He looked away. "For… for _that_."

Demyx swallowed thickly. "Zex, death is part of the cycle of –"

"Stop." Zexion stood up from the couch and ran his hands through his hair. "Please stop. I really can't talk about this. Please don't make me talk about this right now."

The blonde's cheeks heated to a light pink and he looked away. Zexion, who always strived to be overly prepared for just about anything (except maybe the apocalypse in which he did not believe would ever come), was trying to do what Demyx always did and was pretending like everything would just magically work out.

Things almost never magically worked out. Probably because magic didn't exist. At least not where they were concerned.

"Okay…" Demyx mumbled. "I'm sorry."

Zexion stood there awkwardly for a moment before grabbing his mug of tea and clenching it tightly in his fist. "I have to study," he said quite automatically. "I have to study," he repeated before meandering away.

Demyx watched his retreating form and silently hoped that, one day, Zexion would be comfortable enough to talk about all the possibilities of what could happen next.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Okay so… If anyone has been following the note on my profile, which I've tried to periodically update, you'll notice that this was actually close to completion a while ago. However, some familial troubles (mixed with familial obligations) have caused a serious delay. I actually thought about posting this without the review section, but I felt that was a bit of a slap to everyone who bothered to review. So… Anyway… This is quite late. I'm certainly going to try my hardest to ensure the next chapter isn't this late, but I know that something ridiculous will occur that will prevent me from updating (space junk falling on my house, my flash drive spontaneously combusting, my hair catching on fire, etc).

But hopefully the next chapter will be out in a month or less. That's what I'm going to try and shoot for. Fingers crossed, folks.

As usual, huge thanks to **Aindel S. Druida **who edited this (and nearly everything else I've written mid-_Axel's Fables _onward). She is awesome. Seriously. Check her out. She's pretty much everything you would ever want in an editor.

_**I didn't proofread the 'thanks for reviewing' section because I'm a lazy fuck. So… beware of typos, grammatical errors, and words that don't make any sense.**_

**Thank you for reviewing:**

**Thetinynocturne: **I think it's a good thing you believe my writing to be so good. Otherwise, my late updates would probably drive you – and every other reader – away. The date on your review is 12/3/11. That is so ridiculous.

**Amissa Moon: **I'm glad you liked it! Hopefully, the exceptionally long wait hasn't deterred you from reading this story.

**HyperActiveChild: **Glad you liked it. I hope you're still sticking with this story.

**Drew: **Not scrapped. Just a long, long wait until another update.

**Bbb136: **Wow. Glad you're so into this story! I was worried that it would be much too cliché to actually do anything with. I'm actually quite surprised by the number of reviews. I never know how well a story is going to draw an audience in and, to be honest, I'm always sort of shocked whenever I get more than 5 or 6 reviews on something.

**Roxann3: **Thanks! Sorry about the looooooooong wait.

**Sensory Overload: **Wow. Thank you. Reviews like this always make me feel a little sheepish. I think I write well, but I also think I can be uh… pretentious. And I'm glad you think nothing was rushed. I had a VERY hard time getting this chapter written mainly because I was squeezing in way too much information. And I kept repeating information. Like… over and over. It was actually quite bad before I edited.  
>Roxas will eventually change. Though I feel that, in some distorted way, it's quite hypocritical for me to change Roxas' attitude and views when his change seldom reflects how I feel about humanity as a whole. I think that, uh, most people are inherently dickish. But I also think that writing a story that begins with someone thinking everyone else is dickish and also ends with that same someone thinking everyone else is dickish would be really repetitive and boring. So, yea, he'll eventually change. And maybe I will too.<p>

**Twisted-Virus: **Aw, thanks! I like to make the chapters long because, despite my hardest efforts, I don't always update on time. And when I don't update on time, I try to make the chapters extra long. Also, my editor is the shit. She's really awesome. And if you ever do need a beta, ask her because she's great.

**TheAnnoyingVoice: **Yea, I don't know why I do that to Roxas' mom. Because my mom and I get along very well and we're both equally dickish to each other. The things I write Roxas' mom doing, my mom wouldn't even dream of doing to me. So… Figure that one out. Uh… I changed up Nami's characterization because the character from _Axel's Fables_ never would have taken that kind of crap from Roxas. Also, I like to experiment some and I'm sure she'll, eventually, grow a back bone.  
>I agree. I think the nurse job is good for Sora since I feel like he's inherently good. And hookah pipe sellers are often kind of shady (at least around where I live) and Riku is a bit of a shady guy. And Sora likes shady men. As for Demyx, I think the ending of this story is going to surprise people. At least I hope so.<br>I did that to Kairi because I plan to do a subplot with her and Nam. I want to attempt to make readers like Kairi despite the unfavorable spot I've placed her in. As for Axel… I really like writing genie Axel. He's fun to write. And I hope that I can give him a lot of depth. I think he's going to be a more workable character in this story than he was in _Axel's Fables_. There's a lot I can do with him.

**Poisonapple88: **Thanks! I'm glad the idea is still somewhat fresh and hasn't been overplayed. I like my stories to be original while also utilizing somewhat cliché plot lines. I hope the long ass wait for an update hasn't deterred you!

**Raining Petals: **I'm glad! A lot of readers read the descriptions of my stories and are always unsure at first. But I'm really happy you're a fan.

**Turquoise Fusion: **Yes! I think I've got the whole plot worked out so… fingers crossed!

**IchiakiI: **I was thinking the exact same thing when I was introducing Axel. To be honest, I love Genie from _Aladdin_. Too bad he was super gay in _Kingdom Hearts_. And yea. Nam is sort of Roxas' beard, but neither of them really know it yet. I'm not sure if I'll ever directly address it in the story or not. Uh… All I can think of now is that _Spongebob _episode where the ghost pirate guy loses his beard so Spongebob attaches himself to the ghost's chin. That cartoon is more fucked up than _Adventure Time._

**WindRush: **Yea… I like putting Axel's perspective on things, but I do think it's a little awkward to switch the POV around mid-story. So I think I'm going to just stick with Axel's POV at the beginning and then third POV all the way through. Also, I don't mean to make Roxas' mom hated. I have no idea why it always works out that way.

**PumpkinLenses: **Actually, _GC_ is going much more smoothly than this story. I think that's because I've had a LOT of time to think about _GC_ and where I want it to go… Axel's reason for wanting to spend eternity with Roxas will be more or less explained throughout the story. And the whole rules thing? I just don't see how a creature as powerful as a genie could have rules, you know? It's like saying a pirate has rules… There's no master pirate lording over any single pirate making him or her follow rules. That would be silly.

**Diabolus Kara: **Happy Birthday! Given how late this chapter was, I bet your birthday has come and gone so… sorry about that. Axel's story will be detailed… I think I'm going to start using the beginnings of each chapter to detail Axel's journey both in and out of the hookah pipe.

**dixonTICONDEROGA pencils: **I concur which is why I tweaked the POV thing a bit. Also, I looked for the story _Wishing Lamps _and couldn't find it anywhere… Maybe it was taken down? I did find a story in which Kairi rubs a lamp and then she has to grant the genie's wishes… I didn't read it and now I can't remember what it's called so… there goes any possible publicity for that particular author. Oh well. And life is uh… Well… This chapter is ridiculously late so life is, uh… Difficult.

**PipTheAlmighty: **Hah! I actually think Roxas is the jerk in this. Mostly because he throws really stupid tantrums and he totally takes his girlfriend for granted. He'll mellow out and eventually his interactions with Axel will be less ugly and tense and more… huggable.

**Sana-chan9: **I haven't decided, exactly, if Roxas will make all three wishes. I've got the ending more or less worked out except for that one part. Kairi is, initially, going to be hated, but I think she's going to end up being liked. At least by some readers. And I don't think I'll ever directly write Roxas' father in the story. I think he'll just be mentioned or talked about, but he doesn't really have a place other than he sets up the plot line between Kairi and Roxas.

**The Moon's Berserk: **You know… I didn't think about detailing how Kairi and Roxas' dad got together. I was just placing it in there as something that just… is. Maybe I'll detail it, but if I do, it'll come about when Roxas goes about seeking, more or less, the meaning of life. As for Axel and Roxas… I'm not so sure how their relationship will work out romantically. I think there will be romance, but I have a feeling it's going to be strange considering Roxas is human and Axel isn't.

**Sammypaige93: **Thanks! I hope you've decided to stick around for this incredibly late chapter.

**.: **Hah! When I see hookah pipes, I don't normally think bong. Probably because my interaction with bongs has been severely limited whereas hookah pipes are kind of a big deal in my city. I think some kids use it to smoke marijuana, but no one I know (I only know one person). And the whole lamp genie thing? I was trying to keep the plot from being cliché by adding the whole 'and he lives in a hookah pipe!' aspect to it.

**TheDarkEclipse: **Thanks! I have decided to continue this story. It's just really, really late.

**Angel Eclipse: **Thanks. I'm glad the plot isn't screaming CLICHÉ because that was one of my main worries. Hope you've decided to stick around!

**Miggery: **Haha, thanks! I do like the idea of genie Axel mostly because I like the idea of Axel wielding untamed power. I don't know why, but it just… makes him sexier. I really hope you're still excited about reading this story. The long update period has been ridiculous and I hope most of the readers are still on board.

**Kiramizu: **Your review wasn't awkward. But I feel ya about the whole reviewing them. I hate reviewing. I suck at it. And I totally agree about the whole… crap stories getting tons of reviews. I think a lot of folks on fanfiction are younger and look for stories that will be… quick reads, I guess. Or I think maybe some of them are young middle/high schoolers looking for something to relate to. I'm not sure. I do know that I hate bullshit excuses about spelling and grammar. I have a beta mainly because sometimes I misplace commas or I put in one word when I really meant something else. I'm glad you like this story, though. I'm hoping a lot of the readers are still around.

**Sweet pandemonium: **Funnily enough, I don't really read anything with long chapters. I actually hate having to proofread my own stories because it takes forever (and I read really fast). I'm surprised at the amount of people who read fanfiction from their cell phone. I hate doing minimal things on my phone because I like huge, giant screens and my phone (which is an iPhone) doesn't have that.  
>I wanted to make Roxas verbally abusive, but still keep the readers on his side. I've noticed that lots of stories now are all about so-and-so abusing so-and-so but they're always like… way too direct with the characters written to shit. I could never see Roxas hitting someone he really cares about. But I can see him verbally abusing someone for no real reason. It just seems to work.<p>

**sakuraXdrops: **Rushing can really be the death of a potentially good story. I always want to rush the beginnings and endings and the romance, but I like to keep things relatively slow. In published books, big things don't take place within the course of 500 words. The same should be true for fanfiction.

**Ryl: **Yea… Life sort of crept up on me and tackled me to the ground in a fit of rage. But here's the next chapter, finally, and hopefully the next one will be out much sooner.

**ToffifeeKat: **Thanks. I'm glad the story has hooked you.

**xFallenSpirit13x: **Sora would be a pretty good nurse. I think it's because he's tough enough to handle a combative patient, but gentle enough to work with the elderly or young children. Being a nurse is always seen as a feminine job, but male nurses are actually really great mainly because they (usually) have strength female nurses don't. So they're able to handle patients who are being unruly. That's what I think anyway.  
>Riku would make an awesome hookah pipe dealer. All the hookah sales folk I've ever met are a sleazy bunch and Riku… Riku's kind of a sleazy guy.<p>

**LadyInuzuka: **Wow, thanks. Usually I'm worried my stories don't have enough description considering I like to try and add a good bit of dialogue. I try to avoid wordiness though because whenever I read fanfiction, I generally skip all the descriptive stuff and read solely the dialogue (which… makes stories awfully confusing sometimes). So… I try to cut out anything I think is pretty unnecessary or repetitive. And this hasn't been tossed! The update was just a long, painful wait. Hopefully the update for chapter 3 won't be such a long wait.

**Grandmano-is-everything: **Hah, thanks. I hope chapter two was just as good!


	3. Human Qualities

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters in this story. At all.

_**Warning:**_ Shounen-ai, homosexual relationships, etc, etc.

**Author's Note: **Holy crap. This is late. I think every author's note is probably going to start this way. I just suck at keeping deadlines which is probably why I'll never publish. BUT, on the upside, this chapter is around 9,600 words without the A/Ns so… hooray for that.

**Summary:** Roxas hates his family. He hates that his mother and father are separated. He hates his mundane job. He hates his girlfriend. He hates being gay. He hates that his best friend is dying of cancer. He hates, and hates, and hates, and one day his girlfriend buys him a Hookah pipe to cheer him up. And even though he doesn't smoke, he decides to light up anyway because it makes him sad to see his beard cry. So he breathes in and then he breathes out. And before he can accurately comprehend what the fuck is going on, a drop-dead gorgeous genie named Axel is sitting on his bed, yammering about three wishes. And before Roxas can wish his beard away and his life back to normal, Axel tacks on the addendum: "But I'm binding us together and if you make your three wishes, we'll both be stuck in that Hookah pipe for eternity."

* * *

><p><em>Smoking Lamps<em>  
>•••<p>

•••

By: Freekiwi

3 – Human Qualities

**Demyx said two** things. The first was, "It's selfish to mourn the loss of yourself when someone else is already mourning for you." And the second was, "Because, you know, if you mire the people you love in constant grief – even if things are totally hopeless – they'll breathe a secret, contented sigh of relief when you pass."

In the beginning, this all seemed like the faux altruistic hogwash of some dying kid who was trying his damndest to make up for any bullshit during his lifetime. When people realize they're going to die, they begin to repent. Cranky folks who've never been anything but cynical and selfish resort to sudden philanthropy and people make themselves into martyrs when they've only ever been demons.

Sometimes people try to make up for their past transgressions because they believe in an afterlife that they would prefer to be pleasant. Sometimes they don't believe anything, but as the situation becomes more hopeless people quickly change. Any negativity that burdens the human spirit and weighs it down to the eternal fires of a perilous Hell is lifted in the last seconds of death, and people hope and they pray and they wish – always wishing – that they've divested enough of the bad so their soul will rise instead of fall.

I can't tell you if God is merciless or not. Genies aren't governed by his rules and though we know of his existence, there is an unspoken canon that genies don't meddle in God's affairs and God won't meddle in ours.

Of course… This lack of divine intervention is what makes the situations between genies and humans so treacherous. I've seen whole empires fall. I've seen children, animals, the elderly and sick slain at the hands of a human so altered by the power of a wishing lamp. When humanity loses faith it isn't because God is ignoring their prayers or watching with relish as cities burn and people die. It's because genies are the root of the problem and there is nothing God can do. So He watches as genies and their masters create mayhem and havoc and unleash the most untamed, unreal hatred known to both humanity and divinity.

Demyx seemed to be made up of the same human qualities. Tossing all the weight off his soul so that when he was forced to jump ship, he'd float instead of sink. If probed for an explanation of why he felt these things, he'd probably say what everyone always says:

_I want to make things easier for my loved ones _or _It's just what I believe._

Both responses are bullshit. Whether or not humans know the responses are bullshit, I don't know. Maybe it's subconscious. Maybe it's their way of keeping the fear of death, and ultimately the fear of the unknown, at bay. People have this idea that love will protect them from evil. In reality, love just causes humans to act wildly irrational.

I believed for a long time that nearly everything Demyx said was bullshit mainly because Roxas was walking proof. How could they be best friends and yet none of Demyx's seemingly infinite wealth of selflessness, human sacrifice, and genuine love and care rub off on Roxas? If Demyx really was as saintly as he was trying to appear, why was Roxas so terrible?

But as things progressed, especially at this pinnacle point, I realized that Demyx wasn't trying to _be_ anything except himself. I realized that Roxas was just like Demyx except Roxas had mired how he really felt in outward acts of total societal defiance.

Demyx had the tools to express how _much_ he loved and cared. Roxas didn't.

As we walk to the hospital, I take his hand in mine.

"I wish I didn't lack the appropriate human qualities so I could mourn this loss properly."

Roxas' brow furrows and I think we're both a little surprised that a genie could have a need to wish for anything. But I think it's been proven time and again that power doesn't bring happiness, no matter how great.

People have to make their own happiness. And conducting a meticulous search of what, exactly, happiness is will yield an unfavorable result. Happiness isn't found. It is bestowed.

"What's there to feel?" Roxas asks with a sense of total neutrality.

"Fear?" I offer. "Maybe… Guilt? Or perhaps sadness?"

He pauses and digests the words, but then he shakes his head. "I've gone about things all wrong. This is my story. It's always been my story and I don't want anyone to continue writing it for me. And…" Roxas pauses briefly. "And being the author, not a character, means I have the control I've always wanted. With you here, I can decide my fate."

"Our fate," I correct him. Genies are _never _the curators of anyone's fate – not even their own.

••••••••••••••

"**Things have really **changed, haven't they?"

Roxas opened his bleary eyes and blinked a few times to bring his bedroom, and Axel, into focus. He sat up and rubbed sleepily at his face, his heart rate finally back to normal and the exhaustion he had felt lifted. His tongue darted out to wet his dry lips and he gave Axel a look when he saw the redhead was wearing one of his t-shirts. Of course Axel was much taller than Roxas so the shirt barely fit him. It came up over his belly button and the short sleeves barely covered the genie's shoulders.

"What are you doing?" the blond asked groggily.

"Trying on your clothes," he responded as he pawed curiously through his master's dresser drawer. "Are all humans your size now?"

Roxas' brow furrowed and he stood up from his bed. He yanked the shirt Axel was holding in his hands and shoved it back into the drawer before closing it loudly. "I'm normal size if that's what you're asking." He was trying to give the genie a very disgusted look, but his head suddenly felt much too heavy and he sort of swayed for a moment.

Axel gave him a very rough push away and disbelievingly said, "Sure."

Roxas stumbled for a moment and then glared. "Don't touch me."

"I was doing you a favor," the redhead muttered as he removed the other's shirt from his body. He folded it up and then placed it back in its proper place in the dresser.

The blond was giving Axel a rather funny look and, for a very, very brief moment, the genie felt just the slightest bit self-conscious.

"What?" he asked. "It's rude to stare, Short Stack."

"I bet those scars could tell one hell of an epic," Roxas stated darkly.

Axel smirked. "I've been around since Julius Caesar. I think it'd be pretty strange if I didn't have a few bumps and scrapes."

"Bumps and scrapes?" He looked the genie up and down. "Some of those look like stab marks."

He leaned against the dresser and shrugged his shoulders before crossing his arms over his chest. "Humans are fierce. I've fought in wars. I've been the perpetrator in some fairly indecent deeds."

The hair on the back of Roxas' neck rose and he got the distinct feeling that Axel was trying to frighten him. "Following orders, huh?"

The genie smirked.

Roxas glanced over at his bedside clock and sighed. It was around five in the morning and his mother, who was probably already at the bakeshop, would ride his ass for being late. They lived together and she could have bothered to wake him up, but it wasn't exactly in her nature to do certain things for Roxas. She had never been the kind of parent to wake her child up in the mornings. Not even when he was little.

"I have to go to work," he mumbled. Axel moved away from Roxas' dresser and watched him closely as he pulled on a shirt – the one Axel had been wearing – and then a pair of jeans. He retrieved a belt from the bottom drawer and looped it through his pants before running a hand through his mess of blond hair.

"Why don't you wish for a shower?" Axel teased.

Roxas rolled his eyes and walked over to his bed. He got on his knees and reached under it, pulling out a pair of shoes. He shot the genie a really dirty look when he saw that the laces had been badly knotted together.

Axel feigned innocence. "Oh, look at that. Maybe you could wish the laces unknotted."

Roxas sighed loudly through his nose and took a seat on the floor as he worked to get the tiny knots out of his laces.

••••••••••••••

"**Roxas, you're late." **She tossed him an apron as he walked into the kitchen. The bakery smelled of freshly baked dough and Axel, who was sitting at a table near the counter, was practically drooling. Eating was purely for pleasure. Genies didn't have a need for food (or nutrition) the way humans did (which was a good thing in Axel's book because he would have starved to death a long time ago).

"I know," the blond said with a sigh as he slipped the apron over his neck and tied it around his back.

"And what… What happened to your shoes?" his mother asked, a little smile on her lips when she saw that his laces were gone and he had, instead, decided to thread his shoes with thin pieces of rope. "Is this popular with the children now?"

Roxas narrowed his eyes. "No. Axel knotted my laces together and, mysteriously, all my other shoes were gone. So I had to cut the laces off and all I could find was rope to replace them."

"Axel?"

Roxas' shoulders sagged and he walked over to the beeping oven. He turned the timer off and put on an oven mitt before removing two trays of freshly baked pastries. "Axel, Mom. The guy that's been living in my room for… I dunno, two days now?" He set the trays down on the counter top and placed two more trays into the oven.

"The redheaded fellow?" she asked as she grabbed a tray of pastries and walked to the front of the bakery. Roxas followed her with the second tray and just sighed.

"Yes, Mom. The redheaded guy."

She set the tray on the edge of the countertop and began to load the hot pastries into the display case.

"Can I have one?"

Roxas and his mother looked up at Axel who stood on the other side of the case. A look of pure want was reflected in his jade colored eyes and Roxas' mother picked up one of the pastries and placed it in his awaiting hand. "There you go, dear. Why are you up so early? You certainly don't have to be here."

Roxas glared at the back of her head. "Mom, Axel's a genie. He and I are bound. He has to go where I go or…" He paused. "I dunno. The universe implodes."

"Right, okay, dear…" She mumbled dismissively. Roxas always seemed to be playing pretend. "Is it good, Axel?"

The redhead nodded and was busy licking his fingers clean. He ate for enjoyment and eating truly _was_ enjoyable. Axel had been all over the world and had had the satisfaction of sampling some very tasty cuisine in a variety of countries. Italy had probably been his favorite, though the last time he had been there was…

Well, probably the 60's. The food had to be much better now that 50-something years had passed. They probably had perfected pizza. Axel was actually surprised food didn't come in a little pill. The last time he had been out of his pipe, people talked about robots and hovercrafts and food that didn't require effort. He had yet to see anything like that.

"Do you want another?"

Axel debated, but then he nodded and she happily handed him a second pastry.

"You know, since he's here, he could help," Roxas pointed out sourly.

"He's company," his mother chided. "Be polite."

Roxas wanted to tell her that his arm was breaking from having to hold the stupid pastry tray while she sat and watched Axel. He also wanted to tell her that cougars were really unattractive, but he wasn't sure if she exactly _counted_ as a cougar considering Axel was old enough to be…

God, her great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-until the beginning of time grandfather.

It gave him the creeps and he put the thought of the two of them out of his head before the urge to projectile vomit became much too overwhelming.

••••••••••••••

_**The oculosympathetic pathway. **__Hypothalamic fibers project to the ipsilateral ciliospinal center of the intermediolateral cell column at T1. The cliliospinal center projects preganglionic…_

Zexion pressed his hands against his eyes and let a heavy sigh fall from his lips. All the years he had spent at school, from elementary up through college, had been, for the most part, easy. He went to class, he studied, and he always did well on all his tests. He had never doubted his intelligence (even going so far as to, quite pretentiously, call himself brilliant), but now his insecurities of perhaps not being as smart as he once thought were lingering on the edges of his brain.

Maybe it was _Neuroanatomy _that was just hard to understand, but Zexion was having a difficult time accepting that. He didn't have trouble reading books or comprehending them. He had never had trouble. This sudden inability to follow the words on the page was new and different and Zexion didn't want to deal with it.

"Who needs neuroanatomy?" he mumbled to himself as he classed the thin, intimidating book. "I'm never going to be a brain surgeon." And, at this rate, he probably wouldn't even be a doctor.

"Morning…"

Zexion looked up from his school book and mumbled some pleasantry to Demyx. "Don't you have work?"

Demyx, who was still limping some from yesterday's procedure, shrugged as he meandered into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. "Someone does a biopsy on your ass and suddenly everyone wants to give you the day off," he said with a shrug. "You look awful."

Zexion shot him a look. "Thanks. I'm trying this new, 'not eating or sleeping' thing."

Demyx smiled as he poured coffee into his favorite mug. "Isn't that unhealthy, Dr. Zexy?"

He rolled his eyes and stood up from the couch, stretching his body with a small groan. "Want to read this book for me?" Zexion joked as he brought _Neuroanatomy _into the kitchen and placed it none-too-gently on the counter. He grabbed a mug from the cupboard and began to pour himself a cup of hot, black coffee.

Demyx sipped from his cup and flipped the book open. Zexion had done a practice test on one of the pages and (much to the blonde's very controlled surprised) had done poorly. He looked over the answers and then pointed to number 18. Zexion leaned over and read, _Transmits vibration sensation from the ankle._

"Why did you get it wrong?"

Zexion shrugged. "Because none of the words make sense."

Demyx flipped and the page over and read the answer. "Oh, no… It makes sense. Come here…"

Curiously, the student walked around to Demyx's side.

"Fasciculus gracilis... Both are Latin words. Fasciculus means curved bundle and gracilis means slender, right?"

Zexion shrugged a little dumbly. He had neglected to take Latin in high school or college because he had been convinced that learning a second language that people actually spoke, like Spanish and French, would greatly benefit him in the medical world.

"And, look… The gracilis muscle is right here…" He touched slightly off to the side on the middle of Zexion's leg. "It's slender. So just think like… Legs are curvy and slender from the ankle to the gracilis muscle. So… You know… You get the vibration sensation from the ankle all the way up the curvy, slender leg. And then you have love handles which aren't slender or curvy so no vibration there."

Zexion blushed. "I do _not_ have love handles."

Demyx rolled his eyes. "Do you understand?"

Somewhat annoyed, he grabbed his book and, gracelessly, threw it into the leaving room. "Yea, I get it…" he mumbled. Zexion didn't like it when anyone was smarter than him and he certainly didn't like it when Demyx, who had nearly failed out of high school, could look at certain words and just _know_ and just _comprehend_. Zexion had to study and work hard and he had to make flash cards and take practice tests and Demyx just…

Sometimes he just _knew_ and Zexion hated it.

"Why don't _you_ go to medical school then?" he asked sourly.

The blond, bemused, ruffled the other's hair. "Because some of us are too smart for school."

Zexion's disposition wasn't improving.

"Oh, come on. We all know you're the smartest guy in the world. So maybe my grasp of language is better than yours… And maybe I can comprehend better… and maybe –"

Demyx was effectively silenced when Zexion gave his ass a very rough smack.

••••••••••••••

**Roxas, unsurprisingly, was **becoming increasingly annoyed. The bakery was busy and because of his late arrival mixed with Demyx's absence, people were standing around waiting for their pastries and coffees. Roxas' mother was in the back trying to bake up a few more trays to get them through the morning while Roxas stood at the till, taking orders and trying to make lattes, cappuccinos, and cups of coffee.

Axel was standing rather uselessly near the espresso machine. He was examining his nails and, occasionally, glancing up at the people who came in. They all dressed rather differently than they used to. Kids in skinny pants and t-shirts and girls who didn't seem to understand that leggings were not a substitute for pants. There were also individuals who were in pajamas and Axel certainly hoped that that wasn't a customary thing to do. The only thing that hadn't really changed, he noticed, were the suits and ties people wore and the poorly done color schemes. People made all sorts of awful color combinations and while he had hoped that that "style" had been left in the 80's, where it belonged, he could see it was still abundant.

Luckily, Axel had noticed, high-waisted jeans seemed to be almost nonexistent.

"Roxas…"

The blond, frazzled and trying to remember what went in a latte, grunted at the redhead.

"Are more people colorblind now? And what are those… _things_ girls are wearing? They look like jeans, but seem to be much too tight."

Roxas, through gritted teeth, mumbled, "No. People are just stupider and those are jeggings."

"Jeggings…" Axel mused curiously. "Leggings made out of jean material?"

He shook his head. "Leggings made out of legging material, but made to look like jeans."

Axel made a sound from his throat and then he asked, "And this is an acceptable substitute for pants?"

Roxas sighed and shook his head. "You know, some people think so, but I'm going to say no. I've seen enough came ltoes and moose knuckles to last me a lifetime…" He paused and then he gave the redhead a look. "You could be _helping_, you know."

"You could _wish_ for some help," he retorted.

Annoyed, Roxas shoved the latte at Axel. "Go give that to table 5."

The redhead raised a brow and he and Roxas stared heatedly at each other. They were in a silent argument and the noise in the bakery was drowned out by the way they were looking at each other. The fiery, dangerous green into the defiant, yet timid blue… Their body language could say more than words could ever hope. Sometimes Roxas didn't need to scream or yell or throw a fit. Sometimes he could just give these hardened 'I don't give a shit' looks that just forced people into disgruntled submission.

After a moment of this intensity, Axel sighed and said something like, "Whatever you want, Master."

Roxas breathed heavily through his nose and began to make another beverage.

••••••••••••••

**Sometime **around ten in the morning, things had slowed considerably. All the morning baking was done and Roxas' mother was loading pastries into the display case. Roxas was making another batch of coffee and Axel, heavily distracted by the newness of everything, sat at one of the tables, sipping something from a white, porcelain mug.

He was staring at a man. He was somewhat tall, had shoulder length brown hair, and was dressed like a gang member. He wore jewelry (but not flashy jewelry) and he had a scar running across his face. He was stirring liquid creamer into a cardboard to-go mug of coffee and, occasionally, his eyes would dart to look over at Axel.

Roxas watched with mild interest.

"Why do you wear so many belts?"

The man seemed to be caught off guard by the question and he gave Axel a look. Something that said, 'What the fuck kind of question is that?' but then he looked away and decided it was best to ignore the redhead.

"I'm sorry. You must not have heard me… I said, Why do you wear so many belts?" Axel practically yelled at the man.

Roxas walked over to the table and placed his hands on the surface. "What are you doing?" he asked quietly.

"He's wearing like five belts."

"Shut up," the blond said through gritted teeth. "It doesn't matter what he's wearing."

Axel scoffed. "It's a reflection on him. Specifically, a reflection on his inability to properly dress."

Roxas opened his mouth to chastise the genie more, but the man walked over to the table. He was somewhat nonplussed by the situation, but he would handle it like he handled anything that could be controlled with fear.

"One belt is for my pants. The rest are for ass whoppping."

Axel was quiet for a moment and then he nodded slowly. "Good to know."

Once the man left the shop, Roxas glared hotly at the genie. "Are you crazy?"

"You act like he pulled a gun on us."

"He threatened to beat us up!"

Axel rolled his eyes. "He implied he would use his belt to do you bodily harm."

Roxas' jaw was slack. "_Me_? You were the one prying into his… his weird belt fetish!"

Axel stood up from the table and stretched. "Well, perhaps it would be in your best interest to wish for something that would allow you to defend yourself."

His eyes narrowed. "Stop telling me what to wish for."

"They are merely suggestions." Axel grabbed his mug from the table and walked behind the counter, Roxas following him at a safe distance.

"I'll wish for what I want when I want!"

"You sound like a bratty child."

Roxas blushed. "Why are you pushing my buttons?"

"Why, Roxas, haven't you noticed? It's just so easy to do, how can I possibly resist?"

Irritated, he responded, "Maybe _you_ could wish for a little self-control."

Axel smiled.

••••••••••••••

**Zexion and Demyx **were silent. They sat across from each other in the living room and seemed to be playing some kind of game. It had begun to rain outside and Zexion, frustrated with his books, had put them aside and was sipping hot tea from a mug. The ticking of a clock on the wall echoed painfully in the room and Demyx, quietly, cleared his throat.

"What?"

The blond glanced at his boyfriend. "What?"

"Did you say something?"

"Oh… No, I just… I cleared my throat," Demyx answered sheepishly.

"Oh…" Zexion sipped from his mug. "I see."

They were silent again, but this time it was awkward. There was tension between them and Demyx couldn't recall a time they had ever been like this. Maybe once or twice after a very, very bad argument, but they seldom fought and they always made up. But this time was different because, unlike their other problems which were internal, this problem was external. Neither of them had control over it and the lack of control, for Zexion, was devastating.

"I have cancer."

His fingers gripped his mug tightly. "I know."

Demyx looked out the window and the urge to get up and console the other was overwhelming. But he was afraid to because he knew there was a very distinct possibility that Zexion would push him away. That Zexion's inability to deal with any kind of deep, emotional peril would lead them into some kind of awkward, strange argument about something that didn't even matter.

It was clear Zexion wanted to ask why. That he wanted to ask Demyx why and how, but it was also clear that the blond had no answers. Cancer, like happiness, was bestowed. It couldn't be granted any other way.

"I'm… sorry?" Demyx stated, but he kept looking out the window at the falling rain. "I'm sorry," he said decidedly. "For… being sick."

Zexion stared into his tea. "It's not your fault."

Demyx looked over at his boyfriend. "But maybe we can pretend like it is, you know? Because then I can say sorry and you can tell me it's okay and then we can go about things like we always do." He paused and played with the hem of his shirt for a brief moment. "Because, you know, we need someone to blame and subsequently forgive or we'll start blaming the doctors or the hospital or the medicines or the therapies."

Disgruntled, Zexion said nothing. The only sound between them was the rapping of the rain on their window and the occasional sipping sound he made when he drank from his mug. Demyx turned to look out the window, but he smiled gently to himself when he heard Zexion say, "I forgive you."

Demyx had a feeling he would.

••••••••••••••

"**Do you think **Demyx is all right?" Roxas' mother asked for the fifth or sixth time. It was around two in the afternoon and Roxas and his mother were cleaning up the kitchen. Around noon, they had sold out the rest of their breads and pastries and, whenever they sold out, they closed up the shop. Because he had been late and they were shorthanded, they were closing very early. Usually, this was Roxas' favorite part of the day because his mother would leave and he and Demyx would clean and lock up the shop.

And he liked spending that alone time with Demyx because all the other times they were together, there were people around. Naminé, Zexion, his mother, customers… Roxas really liked it best when it was just himself and Demyx and sometimes he got the feeling that Demyx preferred it that way too.

"I don't know, Mom…" he said as he scrubbed the mixing bowl clean.

"Well, he's your best friend. Why haven't you spoken to him?"

Roxas glared at her from over his shoulder and stopped when he realized she wasn't even paying attention to what she was saying. She had no idea how upsetting her words could be because, half the time, the lights were on, but nobody seemed to be home.

"I don't know, Mom…"

"I think we should go over. Maybe see him and Zexion. Maybe bring them a casserole or something."

His shoulders sagged. "Casseroles are what you bring to a wake or a funeral."

"Perhaps a tuna casserole or maybe lasagna. What kind of lasagna does Demyx like?"

_Spinach and shrimp_, Roxas thought, but he certainly wasn't going to tell her. She didn't deserve to know things about Demyx. She didn't deserve to be his friend. She already made it abundantly clear that, if she had to choose Roxas or Demyx, she would choose Demyx. In his book, she already liked Demyx too much and it made him really mad.

It also made him a little jealous because he hated to think that maybe Demyx, if he had to choose between his best friend or his best friend's mom, he might just pick the mom. She certainly had more to offer than Roxas did. She also got along much better with Zexion which meant there wasn't nearly the strain that there was between Roxas, Zexion, and Demyx.

Frustrated, Roxas placed the clean mixing bowl on the counter and then left the kitchen. He took his apron off and tossed it onto the floor before walking over to the coffee maker and pouring himself a cup. It was old and lukewarm, but he didn't care because he just wanted something to do with his hands.

"Who's Demyx?"

Roxas didn't look at Axel, who was perched on the counter like a very proud lion. "None of your business."

"Is he your boyfriend?"

"Shut up," he snapped. "I said it's none of your business."

"Oh, I see. You have a crush on this Demyx character."

Roxas blushed and drummed his fingers on the counter. Looking for something to do, he poured the coffee from his mug back into the pot and then, after a moment, poured the coffee from the pot back into his mug.

Bemused, Axel watched.

Roxas reached for a nearby spoon and began to stir his coffee even though he hadn't put anything in it.

"What are you doing?"

"I… I don't know," he said honestly. "I really don't know."

Axel smiled just the slightest bit before reaching out and taking the coffee gingerly from the blond. "Why are you in so much pain today?"

"I'm not. At least…" Roxas' brow furrowed and he looked pointedly away. "I don't think I am…"

In reality, there was a storm brewing in his chest. He felt such a strange combination of intense emotions that he didn't know exactly how he felt. He was angry, but he didn't know why. He was confused and he was sad and he felt hurt. There was also a bubble of anxiety sitting patiently in his chest just waiting to explode.

"I've never seen you so subdued," the redhead teased.

Roxas didn't say anything.

The door to the bakery swung open. Without looking up, the blond said, "We're closed. Come back tomorrow."

"I know. I saw the sign. Usually we're open until six or seven. I'm surprised, to be honest."

He looked up and a sensation of relief followed by a wave of fear washed over him. He walked out from behind the counter and looked at Demyx as if he hadn't seen him in a very, very long time.

"Are you okay?"

Demyx smiled brightly. "I'm always okay."

"Oh, Demyx!" Roxas' mother appeared from the kitchen. She looked absolutely delighted to see the blond and, much to Roxas' dismay, she walked over to him and hugged him very tightly. "My goodness. I've been so worried about you!"

Roxas wanted to cross his arms, but he feared it would make him seem childish. And he didn't want to seem childish in front of Demyx. Nor did he want to seem jealous. No doubt his mother would see the way he acted and make some wildly inappropriate comment about him having some burning lust for his best friend.

And then he'd have to waste a wish to make her head explode.

"How are you doing? Is everything all right?"

Demyx opened his mouth to respond, but his eyes darted to Roxas. "Y.. Yea," he said with little confidence. "But, actually, I need to talk to Roxas."

He felt relief at the other's words followed by gratitude. Before she could argue, Demyx grasped the blonde's hand and pulled him out of the bakery. Out of the corner of his eye, Roxas saw Axel meander casually toward the front. It was probably to eavesdrop and Roxas certainly didn't appreciate his nosiness.

"Zexion isn't with you?"

Demyx rubbed nervously at the back of his head. "No, he…" He shrugged. "I thought it would be better if I just came to see you." Originally, he had been planning on calling the other, but the rain had let up and Demyx thought it would be a good idea to leave his boyfriend alone for a while.

Roxas sighed and took a seat at one of the tables that had been placed outside for customers. "You're acting weird and nervous, Zexion isn't with you, you blew off my mom…" He paused. "Either you're here to confess your undying love for me or you're dying."

Demyx sat next to his best friend. "Unfortunately, it's the latter."

Roxas nodded.

There was silence and it was uncomfortable. Demyx felt incredibly awkward sitting there and Roxas, who didn't know how to make the weirdness go away, kept casting little glances at the tall blond. Someone needed to say something. Roxas really felt _he_ should say something, but he didn't even know where to begin.

"I'm sorry."

Demyx looked at him. "Why are you sorry?"

"I… don't know…" Roxas shrugged. "I just don't know what else to say."

The baker smiled and stretched his long limbs above his head. "I forgive you." He let his arms fall over Roxas in a sideways hug. "And now you have to sit through this prolonged, possibly awkward hug because Zexion doesn't know how to cope or comfort."

He breathed a little sigh through his nose and shifted slightly. He wrapped his arms around the taller boy and was happy, for once, to be hugging someone other than Naminé. Roxas kept his distance from Demyx for a variety of reasons. One of those reasons was Zexion. Another one was his mother. And the last reason was because he was afraid of what secrets might spill out if he were to get too close to the other.

"You're going to try and fight this, right?" Roxas asked unsurely.

"The sky is blue, right?"

He let his shoulders sag and didn't mention that Demyx kept saying he was dying. He didn't point out that he didn't say, "I have cancer" or "I'm sick" or anything like that. He said he was dying. And while Roxas didn't know a lot about cancer or medicine or the medical world, he knew enough to know that leukemia was quite curable whereas lung cancer really wasn't.

And it was very jarring to him that Zexion was so afraid and so worried. Zexion was always so sure about everything and Roxas had expected the medical student to shine in this moment. And because he wasn't, Roxas felt frightened that maybe Demyx had less of a chance than he originally assumed.

"I need you, though," the taller blond said softly. "I'm afraid."

Roxas hated that fear was such a natural human quality.

••••••••••••••

**His mother cried**. She cried as if Demyx was her favorite son, as if he was already dead, as if she and he had been the best of friends since the beginning of time. She cried and wailed and insisted that this was more painful than when her husband had left her. She, in Roxas' opinion, made a scene and the blond didn't appreciate _Demyx_ having to comfort _her_.

It was Demxy who needed the comfort. It was Demyx who needed help. It was Demyx who should be crying and wailing and insisting this was more painful than the death of his parents. But it wasn't like that at all because Demyx was much too controlled, much too kind, and much too optimistic to do anything like that. And he was much too nice to slap Zexion and Roxas' mother around and tell them that this was about _him_, not about _them_.

Axel and Roxas walked most of the way home in silence. Demyx had left sometime after breaking the news to Roxas' mother and Roxas' mother had decided that, in order to quell her pain, she would need to go out and do something nice for Demyx.

He really loathed her sometimes.

"Your mom certainly likes that Demyx boy," Axel said. He walked slightly behind Roxas, always following him at a safe distance.

"Why were you eavesdropping?" he snapped suddenly.

"What are you talking about?"

"Earlier. I went outside with Demyx and… and you moved to the front of the bakery. You were eavesdropping."

The redhead was mildly offended at such a silly accusation. "I don't need to eavesdrop. I can read you like a book, Master."

Roxas stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Axel. "Oh, really? Then what were you doing?"

Axel didn't say anything.

Sneering, the blond said, "Yea, that's what I thought." He turned and began to walk down the sidewalk. He got a small distance away from Axel before he realized the redhead wasn't following him. Annoyed, he glanced over his shoulder. "What are you doing?" he asked.

He waited for a response, but the genie didn't say anything.

"Fine," Roxas barked. "Stay here, then. I don't give a shit." He continued to walk down the sidewalk. A casual glance was cast in Axel's direction, but the glance was followed by a gasp. Cracks had begun to appear on the genie's hands, arms, and face. They traveled like vines up his neck and threatened to shatter him like glass. He didn't look real. He didn't look like Axel. His eyes had faded to total black and he looked like a vision from a nightmare.

Roxas quickly ran back over to him and a surprising feeling of relief swept through him when Axel's eyes went back to normal and all the cracks receded.

"What the fuck was that?" Concern was clear in his voice, but Axel didn't comment on it.

Though he appeared fine, he most certainly wasn't. There were very few things that could actually cause a genie pain and refusing to stay within the boundary line he had created with Roxas was one of those things.

"I wasn't eavesdropping," Axel said quietly. "I was protecting you."

Roxas stared at him. "What…" He paused. "Is that… Is that going to happen to me?"

Feeling ill, Axel said nothing and walked past Roxas. He kept his distance from the blond though it now proved much more difficult because it was clear Roxas was afraid. Whatever had just happened to Axel could happen to him and he had no idea what had caused it. Had it been up to him, he would have grabbed the genie's hand and never let go.

••••••••••••••

**Axel didn't need **to really ask his master what was wrong. He had been around long enough to know why people felt the way they did and, more often than that, Axel felt that people were very _stupid_ for feeling the things they felt. He would admit that he didn't quite understand death in a first person sense. He understood it as a third party and as someone who caused death. He had lost someone once, but it had been so long ago, his memory failed to recall how he had felt.

He supposed maybe sad or… angry. But it was difficult for him to say. Genies felt, but they felt to a much lesser degree. It took a lot to make a genie angry or sad or happy and the frustration Axel had felt toward Roxas made their relationship incredibly dangerous. It was dangerous to tip the emotional balance genies had. They lived in an emotional homeostasis and Axel had only had maybe three masters before Roxas that had pushed him.

Roxas had thrown himself down onto his bed and instructed Axel not to leave. This was, the redhead noted, the first time Roxas actually wanted him around. The fear of death, as well as the fear of unknown, was a powerful motivator for humans. Axel knew that all too well.

The genie removed his shirt from his body and sighed at the jagged, lingering line that went from his navel down past the waistline of his jeans. He would never admit it, but he needed to be careful. He was fragile much like his pipe and while he thought the demonstration would be a worthy lesson for Roxas, he had to make sure he didn't put himself in any real danger.

The jagged line was a crack, both metaphorical and literal. And he, for once, was quite happy that this century wasn't filled with battlefields and swords because a violent enough stab to his stomach would only create further jagged lines that wouldn't heal.

Axel began to meander around Roxas' room. Things really were different than they had been since his last outing. Computers, which were still in the works of being perfected, were much sleeker now. They also seemed to do much more than they ever had before. He had heard of the internet, but he imagined that, whatever it had been in the 80's, it was much more sophisticated now.

He wouldn't know how to go about working a computer. He knew how to work a television, but he had a feeling that they were more complicated now. He had heard things while in his pipe. Things about something called TiVo and DVR and DVDs. He had witnessed the Nintendo Internet System and he knew about Donkey Kong and Mario. But now there were greater things. Things like the Wii and the Xbox 360. He heard these things mentioned, but had never seen them. And he had heard people say the phrase, "Google it" quite a bit.

He had no idea what "googling" something meant, but he could only assume it was either something very good or something very bad.

If only his pipe had a window, he wouldn't be so ignorant of all the things humans had begun to create.

Roxas turned on his side. "Don't genies sleep?" he asked from his spot on the bed.

Axel looked curiously at him. "Maybe some do for pleasure."

The blond looked at the redhead. "Genies don't require a lot of maintenance, do they?"

Axel smirked. "No. I suppose not." He began to scan the books Roxas had on his shelves and was rather surprised at the collection. Most of the books Axel had never heard of it, but he hadn't expected Roxas to be quite so into reading. He didn't seem like the kind of boy who liked to sit quietly and immerse himself in some alternate, usually fantastic reality.

And while Axel scanned the books on the shelves, Roxas was looking at his body. He was looking at his muscles, at his scars, and at the way his body seemed to be perfect. He stood straight with his shoulders back and his head held high. His spine was completely straight even up to his neck. He looked massive and dangerous and so incredibly powerful.

"Your eyes are wearing a hole," he commented lightly.

Roxas ignored him. "How come you aren't dead?"

"I'm immortal."

The blond rolled his eyes and sat up. "I know, but… All those scars…" He eyed Axel's back. "Some of those look like scars from a whip."

The uncomfortable feeling of self-consciousness came back to him and he tried to push it away. "Humans are volatile when you don't give them what they want."

Roxas looked away. "Why…" He paused and hesitated. "Why didn't you kill them?"

Axel smirked. "I didn't need to. They usually did themselves in by the end of their three wishes."

Roxas looked perturbed. "Does _anyone_ survive having a genie?"

Axel came to sit on the edge of Roxas' bed and thought for a moment. "Maybe…" He sighed. "But if there are survivors, they haven't been my masters."

The blond eyed Axel warily which caused the genie to laugh.

"You're thinking I did something to all of them, aren't you?"

"Not _all _of them…" he mumbled.

Axel smiled. "Humans become wildly corrupt when they become drunk on the amount of power they believe themselves to have. They don't understand that true power isn't wielding destruction and death… It's knowing when to use force and when to be gentle. It's knowing the right way to speak. It's knowing how to manipulate people into thinking that everyone wants the same thing. You can only use fear against humans for so long before they realize the only thing they have to fear is death. And when they realize that all they have to be afraid of is the unknown and that it's coming regardless of everything else, they tend to pick up their arms and fight."

Roxas watched Axel curiously.

"Humans are an odd bunch. They don't want to live under tyranny nor do they wish to live in anarchy. Humans require order and genies disrupt that order. We grant wishes and tip the balance in favor of a few select people. It can be incredibly difficult, Roxas, to make a wish that does not hurt someone else."

The room was quiet. The rain started up again and both master and genie looked out the window with interest before looking away again.

"I don't want to hurt anyone," Roxas said quite suddenly.

Axel looked at him from over his shoulder. "Why not? You're quite good at it."

The blond shook his head. "I… I mean… I don't want to wish for something that'll benefit me if it's going to ruin someone else's life."

The redhead appeared to be perplexed by the other's words. "I can't say I believe you."

Roxas frowned and lied down on his bed.

After a few moments of silence, Axel looked at him. "Have I upset you?"

"I'm going to sleep," the blond responded irritably. "Is that something you can believe?"

He opened his mouth to argue or maybe apologize, but the words didn't come. Instead, he closed his mouth and walked over to Roxas' bookshelf. He grabbed a book entitled _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone _from the shelf before sitting down on the floor and opening it up.

••••••••••••••

**Sometime in the **night, Zexion had wrapped his arms around Demyx's waist and held him impossibly close. The blond, who slept like a rock, didn't notice this small gesture and Zexion was grateful for this. He didn't know how to deal with what was happening. Part of him, a very guilty, irrational part of him, was upset that Demyx was sick _now_. Not in a few years when Zexion would be at least a resident. Not a few years ago when Zexion was in college and could have handled this. But it was right now and he was afraid.

If he lost Demyx, he knew he was going to lose everything. Zexion couldn't go to medical school and take care of his boyfriend and he certainly wasn't going to leave the blond all alone in a hospital room with a bunch of doctors and nurses prodding and poking at him.

Demyx was going to need help and Zexion genuinely felt that he was really all his boyfriend had. And to some extent, this was very true.

He pressed his face against the other's bare back and nuzzled him lovingly. He would gladly give up anything for Demyx and he knew that the other would do the same for him. He also knew he was going to have to keep his absence from medical school a secret from Demyx or he would be incredibly upset.

He would feel he was holding Zexion back and to some extent, he did.

He raked his fingernails down the other's chest and held him impossibly close. The thought of losing Demyx was so devastating that he couldn't even bring the thought to the very edges of his mind. He had never been so infatuated with anyone before in his life and he had the very unpleasant feeling that Demyx was his soul mate. That they were kindred spirits. That they absolutely belonged together.

As cliché as it sounded, Demyx was _the one_ and Zexion was pretty confident that he would never be able to find someone like him again.

Anyone else would just be an incredibly poor substitute. They would just be the Wal-Mart version of Demyx. And no one would ever be able to replace the blond lying there with him.

"Mm… Zexy?" He placed his hand on the other's arm and squeezed. "Are you okay?" He felt the other's arms retreat and Demyx turned to look at the other. "You look mightily uncomfortable," he said sleepily.

"Go back to sleep."

"Come here…" He snaked his arms around the other and was briefly hurt by the way Zexion struggled to get away. "Don't be that way," he said softly. "I won't be able to hold you like this in the hospital."

Zexion stilled in his arms and then, hesitantly, tangled himself around Demyx. He tangled their legs together, he wrapped his arms around the blonde's neck, and he pressed himself impossibly close in hopes that maybe the cancer would pass from Demyx's body and onto his own.

Zexion could never be physically close enough to Demyx. He felt that even if they could meld their bodies together and become one single entity, he still would not be close enough. And it bothered him to feel this way because how in the world could he ever even begin to feel so strongly about anyone else?

"It's okay to cry," Demyx mumbled into the other's mess of hair.

Zexion rolled his eyes. "I don't cry."

"All girls cry, Zexy."

The student fisted some of Demyx's hair and pulled. "What was that, dear?"

"Ah, okay! You're not a girl!"

Zexion released his hair and snuggled against his body. "I suspected I wasn't."

"You know, soon enough I won't have hair to pu –"

"You'll still have leg hair."

Demyx paused. "Touché."

Zexion smiled slightly and pressed the smallest of kisses to the blonde's throat and neck. "I love you, Demy."

"Mm… I love you too. Even more so when you're kissing me."

"Don't talk. I love you considerably less when you talk."

Demyx squeezed Zexion close to him and allowed his hands to wander to the other's behind. "I guess it's a good thing I'm so adept at talking with my hands."

Zexion wasn't going to argue with that.

••••••••••••••

**Axel was staring** because Roxas kept grimacing in his sleep. He had stopped reading _Harry Potter _a few minutes prior and, instead, had turned his attention to the fitful blond who appeared less like he was sleeping and more like he was in some kind of horrible trouble. He moved around a lot and he kept making faces. But he never made any noise and he never talked.

The genie stood and leaned over his master. When Roxas turned on his back, Axel gingerly placed his hands on the other's shoulders. His eyes were wide and he knew he looked wild, and surely Roxas would have been very afraid if he were to suddenly awaken. He tried to move, but Axel held him. The blond began to shiver and when he breathed through his mouth his breath looked like pale, white smoke.

He lolled his head back and appeared to be in great distress. Axel positioned his thumbs along the other's collarbone. To keep him from fidgeting, the redhead placed his knees next to the other's hips and squeezed gently.

Axel could feel the other's heart beat and it was very hard for him to ignore. Humans could be so tantalizing because of that heart beat. Each thump seemed to radiate heat all through Roxas' body and across Axel's hands. The warmth was almost palpable and Axel's normally pale, almost transparent appearance suddenly flushed with color and it made him, for the smallest of moments, very excited and very needy.

While what he was doing was dangerous, it would also benefit the fitful blond beneath him. He just had to keep focused and it was becoming increasingly difficult because the way Roxas' heart felt beneath his fingertips made him long to touch the other. To caress him and hold him and soak up all that heat.

It wouldn't kill Roxas, but it really wouldn't be pleasant.

Keeping his mind focused, Axel pressed his thumbs gently against the other's collarbone. Hesitantly, he hovered maybe two or three inches over the other's lips (which were radiating heat and all Axel wanted to do was kiss them and nibble them and take all that warmth away). One hand slid up to Roxas' chin and he gently propped the other's mouth slightly open. The triangles that marked Axel's face and Roxas' hand began to glow a faint, deep green and smoke – or what appeared to be smoke – began to waft from the between the blonde's lips.

Axel was taking it in. He was breathing the smoke in through his own mouth and he only stopped when the heat was becoming too much and he needed to dismount his master. He stumbled when he stood and then he leaned against the wall for support. The heat made him dizzy. It made him feel stupid, but also very pleasant.

He slipped to the floor and touched his face, his arms, his chest… He groped at his body because, for a few moments, he possessed a very human quality. And it was a human quality he liked very much.

But then there was a sharp pain in his chest, where his heart would have been if he had one, and Axel tried to ignore it. But it ached and it burned and he felt, for a moment, that he might be sick. He pressed his head against the wall and tried to concentrate on how warm he felt, but the pain didn't cease.

It intensified and Axel, who could stab himself with a chef's blade and feel no pain (another pro of being a genie), actually let out the smallest of cries. It hurt. It ached and it hurt and he was suddenly wishing he hadn't helped Roxas.

He had no idea how much pain Roxas actually felt. He had no idea trying to take all that pain away, just for a while, was going to cause him a lot of, what felt like, heartache. He placed a hand on his chest and tried to will the pain to go away, but it didn't. And he was uncomfortable and it hurt, but Roxas was finally sleeping peacefully.

How did Roxas walk around with all this bottled up inside? How did he walk around and not occasionally let out a little scream? Axel figured he would be in a bad way too if he walked around feeling as if his chest were about to implode.

The redhead caught his lower lip between his teeth and a horrible, burning sensation cascaded down his face and then his chest and there was an icy cold sharpness that felt like a blade made of ice melting dully in his chest.

And then it faded and Axel breathed. All of that emotion – that horrible, awful, negative emotion that Roxas always walked around with – suddenly dissipated. He took another breath and reached up to wipe the sweat from his brow. He was surprised to see he was sweating, but sweating was not an uncommon phenomenon after being so close to his master.

He sighed and glanced at his chest. It was rosy in color and he was hoping that, with time, it would fade. Glancing over at the now peaceful blond, Axel mumbled, "You owe me.".

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **This is late. But if you read the A/N up top you know that. I actually expected this to be delayed for another month so I'm really glad it wasn't.

For those of you that read _GC_, that has also just been updated. For those of you that don't read _GC_, feel free to start because the next chapter is going to be the last and that story will finally be complete.

I hope you guys liked this chapter. I tried to add in a little bit of fluff at the end. I also tried to show a little bit more of Axel's genie side and his range of powers, as well his teeny tiny amount of compassion that's budding just for Roxas. The next chapter will really put this story on track and I want it to, hopefully, be out by next month (so.. you know.. late June/early July. But who the fuck knows?).

Thanks for reading, altering, favoriting, recommending, reviewing, and all that other awesome stuff you guys do. Thanks, as usual, to **Aindel S. Druida, **my super-duper awesome beta. She edits all this crap and I pay for her eye doctor. Please give her profile a look or just make nice with her because she is really just tops.

You know what? I never proofread the review section anymore because everything is always so damn late.

**Thanks for reviewing:**

**Twisted-Virus: **Wow, thanks. I really hate the long waits, but I do try and make up for it by putting out extra-long chapters. These chapters, generally, take me around 4-5 hours to write. If I proofread them a few times, which I generally do, it takes me about 6 hours. And then I send it off to the beta so she can edit it. I don't like to put out crap so I try and make everything quality.  
>Yes. Axel and Roxas are slowly growing. And Axel's compassion, the teeny tiny bit he showed, is kind of showing the more human side of him. I'm definitely going to expand upon this, I think, in future chapters.<p>

**Diabolus Kara: **Axel isn't as dangerous as I'm making him out to be. I hope I showed a softer side of him in this chapter. And I have the whoooooole ending worked out (I don't publish anything that doesn't have a worked out ending). I think it's going to really surprise readers.

**Ldrmas: **How Axel feels about people is kind of how I feel about people. Now, I'm not as severe as Axel. I know there are some good folks out there, but there aren't enough of them to balance out all the shitty people.

**IchiakiI: **They used to do that with _Rugrats _too. Put in all this little shit you never even noticed until you got older.  
>Yea, I hate the way my profile looks because it looks like shit. Ffnet needs an IT team that's worth a damn. I hate them. Er… I mean… I love them for hosting a free webpage for me to publish all the crap I think about.<br>Hah, thanks. Glad you like it so far!

**MysterySky8: **Roxas will become much less bitchy as the story goes on. And Axel and Demyx's interactions will be much different as the plot progresses.  
>Roxas… I dunno what to say about him because I think he's just really confused. Like he feels a LOT of things, but he doesn't understand why he feels them. Like uh… Like when you feel like you might have a crush on someone, but then you go out and you kiss them and then the next day you feel… weird about it. Like maybe it wasn't right or maybe the kiss shouldn't have happened or maybe nothing is weird and it's just you being weird. I think Roxas feels like that a lot of the time. I think he feels like he has no idea how to feel so it makes him upset.<br>I like writing Axel's view on things because he's pretty pessimistic when it comes to humans. He's pretty sure the whole world is going to end because of them and Roxas pretty much feels the same way. He just doesn't know how to say he agrees with Axel because then he would be admitting that all humans – including himself – are a waste. And no one wants to admit to being a waste.

**Kiramizu: **Roxas will mellow out soon enough. Axel is kind of helping him by using his powers, but… Well, the story will progress and you'll know.  
>I have always felt that Zexion is the kind of person that really needs stability and needs to be in control. And I think that when things aren't in control, it makes him incredibly anxious because then he feels useless and that uselessness makes him feel stupid. And Demyx works well under pressure because he is almost never in control of anything. Mostly because someone seems to always be running his life. I dunno. I've always felt that Demyx and Zexion work as a couple because of how they deal with stressful situations. They balance each other out.<br>Thanks. I hope this chapter was just as good as the last two.

**xFallenSpirit13x: **Roxas will change. Generally, people change the older they get and with the things they experience. Roxas would be fairly one-dimensional if he was the same from start to finish. The same thing goes for any character in any story.  
>I feel like Demyx would be the kind of person to laugh and joke while Zexion quietly broods about the future. I just don't see Demyx taking things too seriously because, well… Everyone else is already being serious, why should he be all serious too? There has to be comic relief.<p>

**Sana-chan9: **Honestly, I don't really understand the whole mother-issues thing with my stories. I don't have any issues with my mom or woman. So… You got me why I always make Roxas' mom such an ass.  
>Well, you know me… I like things to be three-dimensional. And I like stories within stories so… I think this story would be really, really boring if it was like, "Master does this, genie follows rules." Besides, genies are way too powerful to follow things like, "You get x-amount of wishes."<br>I do like to list the pros and cons of things. Because, you know, I don't think actions should be executed without a decent amount of thought. I think you have to list the pros and cons and really think about things before doing them. Which is what Roxas is doing with his wishes.

**Sweet pandamonium: **Haha, thanks. I think a lot of readers do that because, at first glance, my stories seem really typical and cliché. But I learned that I really, really super like stories that have some kind of uh… story within a story. So… Whatever I write will never be exactly what the summary says. There will be all these other things going on because my stories are never about the summary. They're always about the characters and how they change based on circumstance.  
>Yea, I don't like to post crap. It took my beta a little longer to edit this so… it's a few days later than I wanted, but it's better than she catch the errors instead of me posting something with missing words, misused commas, and so on.<br>Actually, writing about the magical properties with Axel is my favorite part. I like being able to totally make something up without being confined by preexisting standards. I like to write fanfiction, but sometimes staying with the constraints of each character is difficult because I have to do things like make Roxas' mom some total blob character (you know… an OC. Gag.) because no one really fits the personally I want for her.  
>Zexion and Demyx… I have the whole ending for this story figured out. And if you know my writing, you know that there will be so crazy twists and turns at the end. I don't like things to be predictable so I try my best to keep things relatively interesting.<p>

**Riley: **Hah, thanks and you're welcome. I really like how this story is coming together so far and it's definitely going to continue until I complete it (unless I get killed, banned from ffnet, or the story ends up removed or something awful like that).

**Hahanowyougetit: **Thanks. Glad you liked it and thanks for the favorite!

**Poisonapple88: **Axel's past is the most fun to write. Axel is a really fun character in general and making him a genie makes him, like… 6x more fun to write. I like being able to weave this history for him and I like being able to just make things up from scratch as a I go on. Because I write fanfiction, I have to keep everyone within this preexisting box that's their personality so I don't get to make things up a whole lot. But with Axel as a genie… It's just fun to kind of do whatever I want.

**Grandmano-is-everything: **Thanks. I think the extent of Axel's powers will be seen a little later on. He's a pretty scary dude when he's got all this magic pumping through his blood. Glad you liked everything. Hope this chapter didn't disappoint.

**dixonTICONDEROGA pencils: **I actually really like first person because I can really pull more emotion from the readers. However, first person is only really good for writing for one character if you want to like… really zero in on how they feel. I just fuck up the tense all the time in first person so it gets a little awkward when my beta tries to edit.  
>I hope so. I promise I didn't snag the idea from that story. I actually got it from an episode of <em>The Fairly Oddparents <em>where Timmy summons Norm the genie and then tricks Timmy into trapping his fairy godparents into his lamp. Norm was such a dick genie.  
>Nah. You have imagination. The only thing about chapter stories is you really have to think up a strong beginning and a strong end. I keep a fairly loose plotline, but I 100% adhere to the beginning and end. The ending really makes or breaks a story, you know? A terrible ending will destroy the whole story so… I always try to think of a proper ending before I publish anything.<br>I know. But I always feel like such a little bitch whenever I post something that's way super late. I know people check consistently so it's like a serious 'fuck you' when nothing is posted in the span of two months. Also, real life is stupid.

** ILoveLollipops:** Thanks. I really hope you like this chapter and I really appreciate your words of kindness. Also, I had to omit the periods in your name because the document manager on ffnet was removing the first part. I guess it was reading your username as a URL.

**pearlsXofXsin: **_Axel's Fables _could have been considerably better and I think that if I could go back and change some things, I totally would. That's the problem with publishing chapter-by-chapter, though. You think of something great and you want to add it in, but can't because the chapter has already been posted. Glad you like this story so far. I'm betting it'll turn out much better than _AF_.


	4. The Only Moment We Were Alone

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters in this story. At all.

_**Warning:**_ Shounen-ai, homosexual relationships, etc, etc.

**Author's Note: **So… Big surprise, this is late. Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry. I know, I know. Don't harp on me. This is supremely late and I know. And I'm sorry. Super-duper sorry. If I could publish this chapter with a box of chocolates attached to it, I would. But I can't. So the best thing I can do is to let you guys know that I'm sorry.

Here's the good news: I actually have chapter 5 like… nearly written. A few issues with plot need to be addressed and some things just slightly reworked, but otherwise it's good to go. Also, both this chapter and chapter 5 are about… 10k words each. Actually, chapter 5 is looking to be about, uh… 11k words (whoa).

Bad (and some good) news: To anyone that reads _Guilty Conscience, _I am so very sorry it has not been updated. You have no idea how difficult it has been to write it. It isn't so much that I'm stuck, it's just a lack of time. When I sit down to write, I have to sit for hours. Because what I do is… I normally write a huuuuuge chunk / nearly the whole chapter and then I come back later (usually a few days) and read it over. If it sucks, I wipe the page clean and start the process over. If only parts of it suck, I wipe those parts clean and start the process over. Unfortunately, when I'm not at school from 11-7.00 three days a week, I'm trying to do stupid fucking homework. Unfortunately, a LOT of my homework includes reading and writing. So... What happens is this: I read a shitload of crap about John Keats. And then I have to write a 15 page paper about Keats and gender or Keats and language or Keats and who-gives-a-shit. Then I have to read a shitload of crap about peasant wars in Russia and Cuba and Mexico and Venezuela and then write about which theory applies. Does Marxian theory apply? Or is it Lenin's theory that applies? What about Guevara?

And then when that's all done, I turn to Catullus and say, "Fuck you and your poetry," and then spend 2 hours translating 5 lines of poetry (no, really. No joke. I suck at translating poetry).

Uh… The point in all that is this: I like John Keats (when he isn't being a whiny little bitch in his letters to Fanny Brawn) and I like peasant wars (when they aren't being whiny little bitches in their manifestos) and I like the theories of revolution (because revolutionary theorists often aren't whiny little bitches. Unless that theorist is Fanon) and I like Latin (a lot!). But I just don't have time to do all that and write.

Wow, okay, so… **I'm still going to write. **I just reread all that and realized it sounded like I'm not going to write anymore. I am. It's just the pace at which I write has to be slow. So… Again, I ask all of you fine, beautiful people to bear with me. Updates are always coming. I promise.

Uh… The good news is this: the semester is almost over (only 10 class periods left). This means lots of work, but it means that from Dec. 7th (or so) to like… uh… I dunno, January 8th or something, I have a bunch of time off. So hopefully I'll get some good work done there.

Also, I've really wanted to write a Riku/Sora story for a long time (I mean, something that's more than a one-shot). I actually have the first chapter of it written and it has a pending title of, "The Amazing Adventures of Riku and Sora." Sounds kind of like a comic book, right? Well, hold onto your hats, folks, because the storyline pretty much focuses on saving the world (but probably not in the way you're thinking). I've had it written (and edited) for like six months now, but I refuse to publish it until _GC _is officially done.

Um… So about _Smoking Lamps_… I been trying to write Axel's history, but when I do, I just get a "meh" feeling about it. Like, "Eh… I guess that's interesting. Kind of." So I've had to scrap some stuff a couple times now. What I think I want to do is bring in some logic from the _Kingdom Hearts _storyline. You know… **HEY WAIT THIS IS A SPOILER ALERT IF YOU HAVE NEVER BEATEN OR PLAYED **_**KINGDOM HEARTS II**_**! **how Saix goes crazy at the end of _KHII _when he tries to attain a heart. Well… Yea. I wanna bring in that kind of logic. Because I want genies, like Nobodies, to yearn for something. Because I think it's important that everyone realize that lots of power or money or general fortune doesn't bring about the _truly_ good things life has to offer.

Or, you know, something that sounds a whole lot less campy. So, anyway, you know… You don't really need to know all that, but since none of my stories are actually published works, I like to add comments and notes so that you guys can see the writing-idea-thought-plot-process taking place. I like to say shit so you guys know I'm not someone who just whips out an awesome idea and story with no thought, effort, or time. I don't. This shit takes FOREVER to do which is why I'm nearly always late.

Holy fucking shit. This is the longest author's note in the world (seriously, it's a page and a half long). Sorry for blah-blah-blahing so much, guys. I don't get to talk to any of you and I always want my readers to kind of know what's going on. So, anyway, onward to story.

**Summary:** Roxas hates his family. He hates that his mother and father are separated. He hates his mundane job. He hates his girlfriend. He hates being gay. He hates that his best friend is dying of cancer. He hates, and hates, and hates, and one day his girlfriend buys him a Hookah pipe to cheer him up. And even though he doesn't smoke, he decides to light up anyway because it makes him sad to see his beard cry. So he breathes in and then he breathes out. And before he can accurately comprehend what the fuck is going on, a drop-dead gorgeous genie named Axel is sitting on his bed, yammering about three wishes. And before Roxas can wish his beard away and his life back to normal, Axel tacks on the addendum: "But I'm binding us together and if you make your three wishes, we'll both be stuck in that Hookah pipe for eternity."

* * *

><p><em>Smoking Lamps<em>  
>•••<p>

•••

By: Freekiwi

4 – The Only Moment We Were Alone

**For an immortal, **a single millennia can pass by in the time it takes to inhale a bated breath. Empires rise and fall, lands are discovered and subsequently conquered, people realize that the Earth is round, that maybe there is more than just one universe, and that there are many chances to discover, create, and become something greater than just another average human being.

It is the hope of many men to have their name penned down in such a way as to become immortal on the lips of future generations. Death is an inevitably, but it isn't the saddest truth about man. The saddest truth about man is that they experience a second death in which their name is slowly forgotten and they become nothing except for a teeny-tiny blip on a massive, seemingly infinite timeline.

Centuries upon centuries can pass in the time it takes a heart to beat. People are thinkers and innovators. They create luxuries to make an already easy life easier. They are always searching for something significant, but the problem with searching is that not everything is meant to be found.

You can't _find_ things like happiness or love. You can't find abstract ideas. You can't run experiments or try to do the math on these things. Some things are anomalies and it is questionable why they exist at all. Strangely, there is so much to be happy about and so much to look forward too, but people are wont to misery. And perhaps it is the desire to fight this misery that keeps people moving. Perhaps people seek other people to spend their lives with to curtail the misery or perhaps they want someone with whom to share the misery. People are funny in that they seem to have a duality about them. They are social and they need to have relationships. But then you happen upon people, like Roxas, who wants these social relationships but also wants very much to be alone.

Why is anyone afflicted with such an inward struggle? What is the point of existing if the only meaning of your existence is one of constant peril and constant disquiet? And maybe misery, for humans, is a way to protect themselves from the conundrums of life. Or maybe the misery stems from the fact that everything begins to seem rather pointless because no matter what anyone does, life ends and people move on.

What is the point in trying if nothing lasts forever?

In the thousands of years I have lived, there was only a single instance in which, for the smallest moment in time, I understood the affliction of humans. The feeling is faint. The memory is barely visible in the eye of my mind. But there was a time before where I stood and I knew what it was like to know that infinity is an incredibly troublesome, painful truth for human beings.

His name was Ventus and he was more than a speck on my immeasurable timeline.

••••••••••••••

**At two in **the morning, his phone began to vibrate. Normally, he shut his phone off during the night because he didn't like to be disturbed, but the day had been strange and complicated and he had forgotten. It had fallen out of his pocket in the night and it lay, abandoned on the floor, buzzing and flashing with need.

Axel, who had begun to read more of Roxas' _Harry Potter_ books, glanced at the cellular device and raised a brow. In the days he had been out of his pipe he had seen cell phones. He had heard about them in his pipe. But he had never used one and, during his last outing some years ago, cell phones hadn't existed. People, Axel had observed, were wildly reliant on technology. He had some suspicion that perhaps robots existed, but secretly; perhaps designed to look and act like normal people. It would certainly explain some of the eccentric behavior he saw.

Axel marked his page in the book and reached out to grab Roxas' phone. It was strange, really. No larger than a hand, light and shaped like a rectangle. It buzzed with urgency and across the top of the screen, Axel saw Demyx's name in bold, white letters.

Axel had never answered a phone. Centuries upon centuries of life and he had never answered a phone. He had never been in this position before. Normally, people had house phones and he knew it was impolite to answer them unless specifically told. But cellular phones were different. He was unsure of the protocol. Was it impolite to answer a cell phone? Were cell phones the new home phones? Briefly, he wondered if car phones had ever come to fruition as had been hoped.

Curiously, Axel slid the bar across the screen. A different window came up and he stared at it. There was a small menu in the middle with many different options and Axel had no idea what to push or what to do.

"Hello? Roxas?"

Axel stared before hesitantly putting the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

There was a pause. "Sorry. Did I… Maybe I dialed the wrong number. I'll just –"

"No, this is… this is Roxas' phone. He's just sleeping," Axel said. Briefly, he wondered what kind of damage holding the phone to his head could do. Years and years of talking on a device like this had to lead to tumors or cancers or … some kind of super new robotic disease. This really couldn't be healthy.

"Oh…" Demyx awkwardly cleared this throat. "Can… Well… Do you mind waking him up?"

Axel didn't say anything. He set the phone down on the ground carefully (it looked mighty fragile) and he walked over to Roxas' bed. His encounter with his master before – the one in which he had sucked away all of the other's pain – rushed to his head and he felt his cheeks flush as he got close to the blond. His tongue darted out to lick his lips and he poked Roxas' face.

"Hey… Hey, get up," he said none too quietly. "Get up. You have a phone call." He kept poking the other in an attempt to keep their contact to a minimum.

Annoyed, Roxas tried to wave him away. "I'll call back tomorrow…" he said tiredly before rolling on his side.

"It's Demyx."

Roxas threw the covers off himself and jumped out of bed. Groggily, he reached in his pocket for his phone and pulled out his wallet. "Mm… Hello?"

Axel stared. "Are…" His shoulders sagged. "Are you being funny or… or is the wallet a device too?"

Roxas pulled his wallet away from his head and, annoyed, threw it to the ground. "Where's my phone…" He mumbled to himself. He looked around for only a moment before the brightly lit screen caught his attention. Roxas scrambled over to it and hurriedly pressed it to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Roxy… It's Demy."

"Yea, hey…" He took a seat on the floor and leaned against his wall. "What's up?"

"Will you come to the bakeshop?"

Roxas pulled his phone away from his head and looked at the time. "Right now?"

"Yea," Demyx said cheerfully.

He didn't say anything for a moment, but then conceded. "Okay. I'll uh… I'll be there in a few."

Axel looked at the blond curiously. "Where are we going?"

••••••••••••••

**Demyx was mixing **something in a bowl when Roxas tiredly walked into the kitchen of the bakeshop. Roxas' hair was unkempt, he was wearing a pair of pajama pants and a coat, and he looked homeless. However, Demyx noted that despite the other's disheveled appearance, he somehow looked younger. He looked lighter. It was as if some of the weight he constantly bore on his shoulders had been lifted by the hand of a merciful God.

"Who answered your phone?" the blond asked curiously as he continued to mix the ingredients in the bowl.

"Axel," Roxas said with a yawn. He took a seat on one of the steel countertops and watched Demyx through tired eyes. "He's… this guy that's staying with me. It's a long story…" He waved his hand dismissively and swung his legs. One of the reasons he liked Demyx was because the musician didn't really question much of anything. He had a philosophy that it was better to keep his questions to himself because if anyone wanted to tell him something then they would tell him.

Roxas obviously didn't want to tell so Demyx respected that.

"So… What's going on?" the shorter boy asked. "Why aren't you at home?"

"Couldn't sleep," Demyx answered happily.

Roxas frowned. "Is it… Is it the cancer?"

He raised a brow and gave the other a look. "Probably not," he said decidedly. "More likely it's Zexion's crappy mattress or a sudden craving for cookies."

"You couldn't just run down to the grocery store and buy some?"

Demyx pretended to be shocked. "Buy _readymade _cookies when I have the power and tools to make fresh ones?"

Roxas rolled his eyes. "Did you have a craving for me too? Is that why I'm here?"

The baker smiled. "Well… You're good company. Especially now that you've got that attractive redhead hanging around you. I never thought about it, but…" Demyx tapped his whisk on the side of the mixing bowl. "Having a really good looking guy follow you around so people will be nice to you isn't a bad idea."

Roxas gave him a sour look. "Mr. Handsome's out back if you wanna go say hi."

Demyx smirked. "You're making him sit outside in the cold? Are you afraid I won't pay attention to you if he comes in?" he teased.

His sour look increased and he slipped from the countertop. "No," he said unsurely. "I just…" There was a pause and the negative look fell from his features. He looked much softer when he wasn't scowling. "I guess… I guess I just figure this is one of the only moments we'll be alone."

Demyx didn't say anything and, instead, busied himself with chopping up a bar of dark chocolate.

"Once… Once you go in for treatments, you know, you'll be with all those doctors and nurses and… And, you know… Zexion isn't gonna leave your side." He didn't mention that he had his own issue of Axel being practically stuck to him. Fear of overstepping the boundary line kept Roxas closer to Axel which didn't exactly sit well with his overwhelming desire to get away from him.

And he worried that whatever had happened to his genie would happen to him. Though Roxas had asked Axel to hang back while he talked to Demyx, the redhead was doing his best to stand against the backend of the building where the kitchen was. Neither of them wanted to pass the boundary line by mistake and Axel was certain his body wouldn't be able to physically handle another attack.

"These cookies…" Demyx said as he dumped the chocolate pieces into the mixing bowl. "They're called Leite's Consummate Chocolate Chip Cookies." He pulled two baking sheets from a shelf above the oven and set them on the counter. A piece of parchment paper was pulled from a roll and he laid it across one of the metal sheets. "This guy named David Leite decided that he wanted to find the perfect chocolate chip cookie recipe."

Roxas watched as Demyx began to scoop out some dough, form it into small balls, and place them on the parchment lined cookie sheet. After a moment, Roxas walked over and began to help him. With all the dough he had made, they were going to end up with somewhere around 150 cookies.

"So what did he do?" Roxas asked curiously.

"Well… Like any good baker or chef, he did his research. He researched the technique of Ruth Graves Wakefield. He spoke to Shirley Corriher, Maury Rubin, Jacques Torres, and Dorie Greenspan… He found that he should let the dough rest overnight so the cookies are richer because they have a chance to soak up the egg. He learned that chocolate chip cookies have to have three textures: a crisp outer edge, a soft, gooey center, and a chewy ring separating the two. He found that big pieces of high quality baking chocolate are the best kind of chocolate, that salt is valuable, and that small hints of toffee make the cookie markedly different from all other variations."

Roxas watched as Demyx placed both baking sheets in the oven and set the timer for 18 minutes. He pulled out two more baking sheets and lined them with parchment paper as he had done before.

"You didn't let the dough rest," Roxas pointed out.

Demyx smiled in a sad way. "Well, no… I didn't. But sometimes there isn't enough time to wait. Sometimes you have to improvise."

Roxas didn't say anything and, instead, began to place balls of dough onto the cookie sheets.

"What makes David Leite's recipe great, Roxy, is that he went looking for something but wasn't able to find it. He wanted the perfect cookie recipe. What he got instead was advice on how he could go about making one. He had to formulate the recipe himself."

Roxas paused briefly in what he was doing. He looked at Demyx curiously and then his brow furrowed. "What's so great about that? He had to do twice the work because no one could give him a recipe. All they could give was advice."

"Success isn't without hard work," Demyx mused. "Besides… What if life was like that? What if you could go around asking people for the perfect recipe for life and everyone was always handing it over? Perfection would make us all the same and what fun would that be? If we only ever had Tollhouse chocolate chip cookies to eat, we'd go crazy. There are so many different cookies and so many ways to go about making them."

Roxas eyed his best friend. "What are you saying?"

He thought to himself for a moment before saying, "You're searching. And… I don't know for what and I don't know why, and you may not even realize you're doing it. But you're looking for something. David Leite was looking for something too. So he took the advice given to him and he made something that _he_ thought was perfect. He created something that made _him_ happy."

Roxas frowned and didn't say anything. He continued to roll pieces of dough into balls and place them on the parchment lined sheets until both were full. There was still dough left in the bowl, but Demyx covered it with a piece of plastic wrap and placed it in the walk-in fridge.

"Why do you think I'm unhappy?" Roxas asked after a moment of strained silence.

Demyx looked at him funnily. "Aren't you?"

He didn't answer.

The musician walked over to the oven and turned the light on to check the cookies. To him, this was science. Granted, it was much smaller on the scale of sciences, but it was a science. Zexion would probably never agree with him, but Demyx supposed that that was something he liked about their relationship. Their differences made their time together all the more interesting. And Demyx knew he would become incredibly bored if he was forced to spend every day with someone who was just like himself.

How would he ever garner new interests if he spent all his time with someone who had the exact same interests as him? He would never learn anything new. He would never make surprising discoveries about himself. And if he wanted to spend some time with someone like himself, he would just be by himself. He thought himself to be rather lovely company the majority of the time.

"You… know a lot," Roxas mumbled.

He looked over his shoulder and raised a brow. "Huh?"

"I mean… About baking and… and these significant figures in baking." He placed his hands in the pockets of his pajama pants and sighed. "All those people you named… I have no idea who any of them are. And, honestly, I probably never will."

Demyx waved his hand dismissively. "So? I just think it's interesting so I just… research and read and –"

"But that's just it," Roxas interrupted. "I… I don't care about this. I don't care about this stupid shop or baking or decorating cakes for the rest of my life. If this place burned down tomorrow, I would only feel bad because I know it would hurt you. Because I know what this place means to you."

Demyx smiled softly. "I know."

"But it's not fair. Because… Because why am I living your dream? Why are _you_ sick? Why are _you_ the one having to give this up when you're the one that actually likes it?" Roxas asked in an exasperated tone. "It just... doesn't make any sense. Because I know you, Demy, and I know that if you weren't sick and my mom offered to give you the shop tomorrow, you would take it."

He didn't argue with that.

"And… And I know that this would be the best of both worlds for you. You'd get to bake and decorate and create things in the morning and then you could sit on the stage and play your music in the evening. I just…" Roxas relaxed his shoulders and leaned tiredly against the kitchen wall. "I don't know." There were many things in life that simply eluded Roxas. There was so much he just… didn't get and figured he never would. All the questions he asked really didn't have any kind of feasible, concrete answer, and his stubborn curiosity would only lead him to further resentment.

The oven began to beep and Demyx quickly silenced it. He grabbed an oven mitt from a nearby drawer and pulled one tray out at a time. He placed the next two cookie trays into the oven and set the timer again before giving Roxas an unreadable look.

"I guess that just isn't the plan for me, then," he said indifferently.

"But… But how can you even say that and be okay?" Roxas questioned. "How can you say, 'I guess that's not my fate' and not be angry?"

Demyx grabbed a cake plate from one of the top shelves and a spatula from a drawer. "I dunno. I figure being sad or upset over it isn't going to make it better. I can't change fate. It's… It's a set path, you know? I mean, if I could, I'd try and skew off into some alternate reality where I'm _not_ sick, but I can't do that… I don't have magic powers. I can't control fate."

Roxas stopped himself from saying, "But Axel can."

Demyx slipped the spatula under two cookies and carefully scooped them up before placing them onto the cake plate. He walked over to where Roxas stood and set the plate on the countertop between them. Lazily, Demyx leaned against it and gave his best friend a very untroubled look.

"We've created something different."

Roxas raised a brow.

"We couldn't let the dough rest so… we don't have David Leite's Consummate Cookies. What we have now is…" Demyx thought to himself for a moment. He picked up the freshly baked cookie and eyed it before taking a bite. It was warm, gooey, sweet… It was everything he had expected it to be. He watched as Roxas did the same and a little smile crossed his lips when he saw the shorter boy's troubled look fade away.

"What we have here, Roxy, is a new cookie. And I think we'll call it… The Only Moment We Were Alone."

••••••••••••••

"**This is the **most delicious thing I've ever put in my mouth."

Roxas was shuffling back toward his house with Axel following behind him. Demyx had taken home three trays of cookies and insisted Roxas take home the fourth. He told him to reward Axel for waiting so patiently outside. He told him to share them with his mother, with Fuzzy, and to treat himself whenever he felt sad.

But Roxas didn't really have much of a sweet tooth and it appeared that Axel was going to eat the whole container before they had even arrived at the proper neighborhood.

A chilly, light rain had begun to fall and Roxas yanked his hood over his head. Behind him, he could hear Axel enjoying the cookies Demyx had made.

"I like your friend," he said through a mouthful. "Well… I suppose I just like his cookies considering I don't know him. But, my God… he can't be all bad if he bakes this well."

Roxas rolled his eyes.

"You know, Roxas, if genies could gain weight, I'd probably be 600 pounds."

"Riveting…"

Axel raised a brow. He closed the container of cookies and began to follow his master a little more closely. "What's wrong with you now?"

"Nothing. Just… Just leave me alone."

"What? Did you admit your undying love for that Demyx fellow? Did he take your dreams and violently smash them into dust? Or perhaps he stabbed a blunted dagger through the blackest part of your heart? Humans can be so cruel," Axel teased.

Roxas didn't say anything.

"Cat got your tongue?"

When he said nothing, Axel frowned and stopped walking.

Irritated, Roxas sighed and stopped. "Please come on. I don't want to do this right now." His back was to Axel, but the pain in his voice was exceptionally clear.

"You hold quite a bit in, don't you?"

Roxas didn't look at him.

"Why?" the redhead asked curiously. He walked over to the other and resisted the urge to place a hand on his shoulder. "Why do you keep it all bottled up? Why do you even let anything bother you to begin with?"

"You wouldn't understand."

Axel felt the hairs on his neck rise. "Yes. I've been alive for centuries, but I certainly don't understand teenaged angst. How could I even possibly go about understanding something so complex? I've dealt with all sorts of people from all sorts of countries and time periods and yet I am wholly unequipped and unknowledgeable in the realm of troubled adolescents."

The rain began to fall harder and Axel sighed. Nearby was a bench and the redhead began to walk over to it. Hesitantly, Roxas followed but only because he was afraid of overstepping the boundary line.

The genie sat down on the bench and Roxas sat away from him. After a moment, an overhang appeared over them and Roxas saw, in its wake, wisps of red smoke. He glanced over at Axel who had his arms and legs crossed.

The blond put the hood of his jacket down and rested his elbows on his knees. He looked down at the ground and stared hard at the wet, dark sidewalk and let out the smallest sigh.

"I probably won't understand why you're sighing either," Axel chided.

"Demyx has cancer."

The redhead shifted uncomfortably. "I'm aware."

"And… And I just don't think you have the ability to understand life and death. You're immortal for Christ's sake. And I know what you think… You think Demyx's life is some insignificant blip in history. But to me and to Zexion, it's not. Demyx's life is a huge blip."

Axel didn't argue with him.

"Some people… Some people were born to reach for the stars and obtain them. Some people were meant for greatness. And I don't mean greatness that's been obtained through the use of a genie or… or fairies or pixie dust or… or whatever. I mean greatness that's been worked for."

The redhead uncrossed his arms. "Fairies and pixie dust don't exist. That would just be ridiculous."

Roxas gave him a sour look. "Look, I just…" He sighed. "Never mind." He ran his hands through his blond hair and then rubbed at his tired, sleepless eyes.

After a moment, Axel made a frustrated noise. "I'm sorry. Please continue your monologue."

"And some people aren't meant for it. Some people _are _just blips in history. But… But I look at Demyx and I know, Axel… I know that he could be so much more. I know he's destined for something, but… but he's sick and…"

"Did it ever occur to you that he'll recover?"

Roxas looked away, somewhat embarrassed by the question. "Yes."

"So why are you letting this worry you now?" the genie asked seriously. "He hasn't been written a death sentence. And I know it's natural to be afraid, to be sad, to be angry, but… If he is destined for greatness then he'll fight the cancer and live. Acting as if he might as well already be dead isn't doing you any good."

Roxas shrugged.

"No, no… don't just shrug at me. I'm giving you incredibly sound advice. For once I'm taking your problem very seriously. You can't offer me your… your meager little shrug after I've just dropped that gem of wisdom."

He gave the genie a sideways look. "You really think you're great, don't you?"

Axel stretched his arms across the back of the bench and smirked. "Well, after centuries of battles and wars and witnessing all the power and destruction a human can have and create, you begin to feel as if you truly are much better than everyone else."

Roxas rolled his eyes. "Why? Because you know how to control your power? The only reason you don't take over the world is because –"

"I know it's folly."

The blond glanced at him. "I was gonna say it's because you're governed by rules."

Axel shook his head. "There is no rule that says I can't attempt to take over the world. But I have seen many great men try and fail. The only thing you will ever truly be master over, Roxas, is yourself and your own life. In brief moments, you may have governance over the life of friends or family, but you'll always be your own master."

He placed his hands in the pockets of his coat and leaned against the bench. "Demyx said I'm searching."

"For what?" Axel asked.

Roxas shrugged. "I dunno. He said he didn't know either. He just… said he knew that I was searching."

Axel tapped his fingers against the top of the bench and looked down the empty, wet street. "Perhaps you're looking for the secrets of happiness."

Roxas snorted. "Yea, right."

The genie glanced at his master briefly before giving his shoulders a shrug. "Then what else could it be?"

"Maybe… Maybe I'm looking for meaning," he offered somewhat helplessly. "Maybe I'm looking for my purpose."

Axel shrugged again. "Perhaps." He paused before saying, "But it has been my experience that people don't look for meaning unless they are seeking God. People look for happiness. They look for… for some kind of secret to the perfect life. Maybe it's foolish, but humans equate happiness to a decent existence. It's like a recipe for them, I suppose. You need some kind of binder, like flour, to bake a cake and you need some kind of happiness to have a fulfilled life."

Roxas mulled this over for a moment. He opened his mouth to speak, but then he closed it, and gave his genie a funny look. "Do you know who David Leite is?"

Axel searched his vast memory for a name or a face, but nothing registered. "I can't say I do."

"He… wanted the recipe for a perfect cookie. So he went and asked all these people what a perfect cookie would be. But perfection is speculation and what one person likes might not be what someone else likes. So… He just got advice. And then he took all the advice he liked, all the advice that made him happy, and he concocted the recipe for the perfect cookie."

Axel was mildly intrigued.

"So… Maybe wishes can be based on the advice of others. And maybe there's a way to create something that, in my mind, is perfect."

"Are you no longer concerned about a selfish wish?"

Roxas shrugged. "I guess that's a question I'll have to face when I know what I want to wish for. When I know what will make me happy."

Axel offered the other a weak smile and then he turned and looked down the dark road. When he had taken away some of his master's pain, he had also discovered that Roxas _was_ searching. He had discovered that Roxas was searching for happiness. But this happiness that Roxas longed for was not a happiness he wanted for himself. The amount of pain Roxas kept caged in his chest was not a pain for himself.

It was pain for someone else. And the happiness Roxas pinned for in his subconscious was for someone else. He certainly didn't realize it and Axel wasn't going to tell him, but the realization that Roxas' entire being was filled with emotions and wants and wishes _for someone else_ changed Axel somewhat.

It was in this moment of realization that Axel knew Roxas was different.

••••••••••••••

"**I'm going to **tell you something about me."

Roxas was lying on his side in his bed. Despite his efforts to sleep, sleep refused to come. Thoughts of Demyx were still in his head. Thoughts of the blond smiling and happy and then very unhappy, very unpleasant thoughts of Demyx hooked up to a bunch of machines and withering in a hospital bed. When he closed his eyes, he imagined Demyx's funeral and he imagined what a mess life would be after his passing. When he closed his eyes, he only could think about death despite his damndest attempts to think of something – anything – else.

"What's that?" Roxas asked with some interest. Bags were forming under his eyes and he sighed very softly when he felt Axel's weight on the other side of the bed. "What are you doing?" he asked without bothering to look at the genie.

"Years and years and years ago, I knew someone."

"That's a great story," Roxas responded sarcastically.

Axel smirked. "I'm trying to share with you. I'm trying to…" He paused and tried to think of the word. "To be your friend, I suppose."

Roxas looked over his shoulder and raised his brows. He wanted to ask Axel why, to question his sudden want to share, but he knew better. He knew that, when someone wanted to tell something personal, it was best to just let them. Throwing out a bunch of questions would only cause the other person to feel stupid for wanting to share anything to begin with.

"I was his genie for years. He was only ten, maybe, when I came out of the pipe. And he, like you, didn't immediately wish for power or money or the death of his enemies or anything like that. He considered me…" Axel paused. "He thought I was a curse and he noodled out rather quickly that any wish he made could, and probably would, backfire on him. So he was careful about his wishes."

Roxas had turned onto his opposite side and was watching as Axel told his story.

"The time he lived wasn't like this. His time was filled with war and death and plight. Even when his father was called to war, he didn't wish for him to stay or for the war to end. He let things unfold as they should because he felt that God had set them out to be a certain way. And he felt it wasn't his place to intervene."

Roxas listened carefully.

"He was wildly intelligent and he was sweet. He was curious, too, but… He knew better than to try and play God. And when his father died, which was an inevitable fate, he didn't wish him back. He cried privately and he grieved privately. He was strong for his family because he had become the man of his household." Axel sighed. "When he turned fourteen, I found that I had become rather attached to him. And it is unusual, Roxas, for genies to become attached to anything."

He sat up slightly and watched Axel closely. The genie's tone had become wistful in some way and Roxas had grown curious.

There was long delay in Axel's next words and he seemed to be calculating how much he wanted to say. He decided that, because he didn't wish to become too close to Roxas, he would edit out the parts of the story that he didn't like. He decided that he would simply hide some of the ugly factors of what had occurred when he had been this boy's servant.

"The story is a longer one than I wish to tell, but eventually he and I became close both physically and emotionally. But the consequences for our actions were not only dire for myself, but for him as well."

The blond frowned. "Like… it's against the rules?"

Axel opened his mouth to explain, but then he stopped. Instead, he reached out and grabbed Roxas' hand. He interlaced their fingers and a befuddled, dazed look came across the blonde's features. Axel felt the warmth spreading through his body and it took him quite a few seconds before he released Roxas' hand and allowed the color to return to the blonde's cheeks and the color in his own cheeks to fade away.

"When genies touch their masters, befuddlement occurs. It impairs decision making. It renders even a brilliant mind to nothing but a blubbering, needy infidel." Axel was silent for a long time before he said, very quietly, "I began to crave his touch. I wanted him to kiss me and I wanted to hold him. I knew it was hurting him. I knew I was taking from him, but I couldn't…"

Roxas was trying to compose himself as Axel spoke. Being touched by the genie certainly explained why there had been moments where Roxas felt completely out of himself and absolutely confused by everything around him.

"Eventually, I was captured and beaten by a very powerful man."

Roxas frowned. "Why didn't you, I dunno… Set him on fire?"

Axel sighed. "It's… complicated," he decided. "But as I was dying –"

Roxas sat up. "You were dying?!"

Axel turned onto his back and smiled softly. "Yes. I was dying. And as I was dying, my master told me he wished he could go in my place. And, at that time, I was powerless against any wish so I had to do as he said."

The blond fell silent. He sat on his knees and he was staring at Axel with an incredibly mixed look of puzzlement and sadness. He had many questions about why Axel was dying and he wanted to know whether or not he loved this person, but the questions seemed inappropriate and Roxas didn't want to pry. Axel was choosing to share something that was obviously personal and the blond thought it would be in bad taste to suddenly bombard the other with questions.

"I… I'm sorry," Roxas finally managed.

Axel waved his hand in a way to suggest that what had occurred really wasn't a big deal.

They were quiet for a long time. Down the hall, Roxas could hear his mother's alarm clock going off and he knew she would be up soon. He also knew he should go to sleep, but he didn't want to lie down and all he really wanted to do was stare at his genie. Because, in the course of only a few moments, Axel had managed to completely change the way Roxas viewed him.

"It must've been hard," the blond mumbled awkwardly. "To… grant his wish, I mean."

Axel glanced at his left hand and shrugged somewhat helplessly. He remembered the way his master had ran to his side and grabbed his hand. He remembered how painfully human he had become. He remembered how painful it had been to be beaten and left for dead. And he remembered how peaceful and sad his master looked when he made his wish.

He also remembered the way the life had left his eyes. He remembered how he so suddenly was a person and then wasn't. And he remembered, vaguely, how it felt to mourn. But the feeling was sudden because once he had died Axel had been sentenced to another imprisonment in his pipe where feelings did not exist.

"Axel?"

The redhead glanced at his master. "What?"

"Do you… Do you ever feel sad?"

He looked up toward the ceiling and then shook his head. "I don't know. I… I certainly don't feel the way you do. Sometimes when I think about… I…" Axel sighed and then waved his hand. "Never mind. It isn't important."

Roxas' brow furrowed. "No… No, it is important. He meant something to you. He –"

"He didn't mean anything to me," Axel snapped as he sat up. "I… I never meant to give you that impression. He…" The genie turned and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Sorry," Roxas murmured awkwardly. "I didn't mean to offend you."

Axel glanced at the blond from over his shoulder. "Apology accepted."

Roxas watched as the genie lied back down and curled onto his side. He lied down next to him, a little too close for comfort, and Axel scooted away some.

"Please don't get close to me," the redhead requested quietly. "Despite what you may think, I really have no desire to hurt you."

Roxas hesitated, but then he reached out and touched Axel's face. The genie's skin was like ice, but he caught the look of pleasure that crossed the redhead's features when he felt those enticingly warm, soft fingers against his chill skin.

"Roxas…"

The way Axel said his name caused the hair on Roxas' neck to rise and even though he was trying his best to fight the confusion, he was losing. It was hard keeping himself focused when touching Axel left him with an incredible feeling of total honesty.

"Roxas, stop…" The genie grasped the blonde's wrist and pulled his hand away. "You're going to bring harm to yourself." Axel didn't mention that harm would certainly come to him as well. He dropped the other's wrist and watched as his master's eyes came back into focus and the haze he felt slowly wore off. "It's curious that _now_ you wish to touch me when this whole time you've been doing your best to keep me away."

"But tonight I feel sad. And maybe you want to deny it, but I can see that you're sad too."

Axel didn't argue.

"And… Whenever I feel really angry or sad or confused or hurt… Demyx will pat my back or hug me or offer some kind of physical contact. And it always makes me feel better."

"I bet Zexion enjoys that."

Roxas blushed. "We… We don't kiss or anything." Annoyed by Axel's underhanded accusation that Demyx was, somehow, betraying Zexion's trust, Roxas turned over onto his opposite side and let his back face the redhead. He didn't want to feel badly about his and Demyx's relationship. And he certainly didn't want to think that each time he requested Demyx's touch that he was, somehow, jeopardizing his best friend's relationship.

"Sorry," Axel whispered.

Roxas, who couldn't fight the urge to sleep any longer, just shrugged his shoulders and allowed unconsciousness to overcome him.

Axel, who had no need for sleep, allowed himself to lie still for maybe twenty minutes before he gently said the other's name. When he elicited no response from the other, Axel hesitantly scooted close to Roxas and put his arm around him. He knew what he was doing was wrong. He knew what he was doing was dangerous. But Axel did feel sad because whenever he had the pleasure of escaping his pipe, he always remembered the innocent life he took.

••••••••••••••

"**Have you even **slept?"

Demyx yawned and strummed his sitar on the living room couch. "No."

"Demyx, you need your strength. You need to be taking care of yourself. Not having late night excursions to… to wherever the devil it is you go," Zexion lectured as he made breakfast. "I don't like to wake up and see that you're gone. I don't like it when you're not beside me."

Casually, Demyx said, "How are you going to survive when I'm in the hospital?"

Zexion blushed. "I… Well, I… I was planning on sleeping in the room with you. Perhaps in one of the chairs they often have in those rooms."

The blond gave his boyfriend a look. "I forbid you to sleep in those chairs. You need to be getting your rest so you can go to school. You can't be monitoring me 24 hours a day, Zexy. I know you'll want to, but I'll be okay."

"You don't know that," Zexion said, his voice in near-panic at being told he wasn't going to be able to stay with his boyfriend in the hospital. "You don't know if you'll be okay. The only being that knows whether or not you'll be okay is God and we certainly can't wait for an answer from him."

Demyx put his sitar down and stood up from the couch. "Zexy, calm down. I just don't want to consume your whole life. Look, medicine will always be there for you. Even if I live to be 80, I won't always be here. Eventually, I'll go away."

"Demyx, stop." He commanded as he took a pan off the stove. "I don't want to talk about… about whether or not you'll be around."

He meandered into the kitchen and walked over to his boyfriend. Despite Zexion's misgivings, Demyx picked him up and hugged him incredibly tight. "I love you."

Zexion frowned. "I told you I don't like it when you make me feel like a teddy bear."

Demyx squeezed him. "Let's go to bed."

"I don't have time to fornicate. I –" He was effectively silenced by the blonde's tongue suddenly tracing the shell of his ear. "Demy…" He whispered softly. "Demy, don't…"

"You're too high strung."

Zexion wiggled and struggled until Demyx set him down. However, once Zexion had composed himself, he wrapped his arms around the blonde's waist and buried his face against his solar plexus. A little smile crossed the blonde's lips and he wrapped his arms around the shorter boy, holding him close and breathing deeply of his scent.

"I'm really scared…" Zexion said quietly. "I don't want you to d –"

Demyx pressed a heated kiss to his boyfriend's mouth. He didn't want to hear the word because his brain couldn't process it and he didn't think it healthy for anyone else to be saying it. He pushed his tongue into Zexion's mouth and, while the bookworm was distracted, he slipped a hand down the other's pajama pants and grasped him gently.

Zexion broke their kiss and turned his head away so Demyx was forced to nip and suck and lick at his neck. "D-Demyx…" He stammered. "What do you think you're…"

"I'm doing a magic trick," he replied sarcastically as he nibbled on Zexion's ear. "It's called the Disappearing Act. Guess which part of me disappears and where it disappears to," he whispered jokingly.

The shorter boy's skin was lined with goose bumps and he put his hands up against Demyx's chest. "You're lewd. And you end your sentences with prepositions."

"And you're hard," Demyx said happily as he stroked the other with long, skilled fingers. "So we can go to bed or I can leave you here all sexually frustrated."

Zexion was trying to keep his composure, but it was difficult. "Won't you be sexually frustrated as well?"

Demyx had slid his other hand into his boyfriend's pants and was fondling him. "I don't mind jerking it. I know you think knuckle-children are a crime against humanity, but –"

"Stop. Please stop talking," Zexion requested as he practically melted against the other's touch. "It's amazing, really. You talking is such a turn off, but everything else…" He shuddered when he felt Demyx press his thumb against the slit of his erection.

"You know, I feel the same way about you," Demyx responded with a smile.

Zexion reached up and grabbed a fistful of blond hair. He pulled the other down toward him and their lips met in one of the sloppiest, hottest kisses Zexion had ever had the pleasure of experiencing. Both parties were fighting for dominance with their tongues and Demyx eventually won, but only because his hands were still at work in Zexion's pants.

"Bed…" the student requested shakily when their kiss was broken.

Demyx shook his head as he yanked down Zexion's pants and let him step out of them. "No… No, I want it here."

"What? No. This is where we prepare food. This is where we eat. It's unsani –" He moaned when Demyx dropped to his knees and began blowing him. Zexion tangled a hand in Demyx's messy blond hair because he needed to grip something. Whenever he and Demyx were intimate, Zexion always felt that there was a very high possibility he may very well float away if he didn't grab on to something solid. Demyx was rather talented and Zexion figured that that kind of talent had to be the work of some powerful entity, like a genie or perhaps a witch.

"Jesus Christ, Demy…" Zexion lolled his head back and tried to concentrate on stalling his fast approaching orgasm. He did _not_ want to cum in the kitchen. Though he was confident Demyx would swallow everything Zexion had to offer, the shorter boy just felt that the kitchen was sanitary and their sex certainly was not.

"I… I can't c-condone kitchen s-sex…" Zexion stammered. He gripped the fistful of hair he was holding and held it tight, causing Demyx to stop his actions.

The blond lapped lazily at the head of his boyfriend's erection. "If we do it in the kitchen, I'll let you top."

There was a long pause and then Zexion asked, "Top like… I ride you? Or top like… Me inside you?"

"You inside me," Demyx said. "Of course, you have to be at least five feet to ride this ride so… Maybe next year when you're taller –"

Zexion yanked on the blonde's hair, causing him to whine in pain. "Your sudden offer to let me be pitcher, as it were, is enticing and terrifying."

"Why terrifying? It's not that hard. You just stick it in and then thrust."

Zexion made a face. "Yes, Demy, I know how to have sex. I mean terrifying in that I know you're offering the opportunity to me because there's a chance that you won't always be around for me to… You know…"

Demyx raised his brows and slowly began stroking Zexion with his hand. "Or maybe I really, really, really wanna do it in the kitchen."

The student considered this and then he gave a curt nod. "Okay so… So on the counter top? Or maybe the table? Or, you know, we could do it right here on the floor, but… Or, wait, I know! The bar top. That would be hot, right, to do it on the bar top?"

Demyx held a grin that threatened to split his face in two. The thought of Zexion topping him was highly titillating and seeing his boyfriend actually willing to do it somewhere outside of their bedroom brought Demyx great joy.

"Wherever you can reach, Short Stack."

Zexion gave Demyx a very unamused look. "I won't be gentle with you if you make another short joke."

Demyx lapped at the head of Zexion's erection and stroked him with long, purposeful strokes. "Okay but… I really think the counter might be too high for you."

They exchanged a playful look because they both knew that Demyx liked it rough.

••••••••••••••

**There was something **horrible burning his nostrils. Something that smelled of blood and fire. And wherever he was, it was dark. He was shaking because he was cold and he felt nude despite wearing clothes. He tried to gather his surroundings, but he had never been to somewhere like this before. It was dark because it was nighttime and he was in a barn or a shed or maybe a very unkempt house.

Roxas hadn't realized it before, but he was sitting and when he stood, the room suddenly came into focus. He was in a barn except there were no animals despite hay littering the ground. There were lanterns hung all around, creating patches of light in an otherwise dank, dark area. He shivered and walked and tried to assess where the smell was coming from.

He came to the barn door and tried to open it, but it wouldn't budge. Frustrated, he rammed his shoulder into it but nothing happened. His brow furrowed and he started to bang on the door when it was suddenly opened.

He stepped back and watched as a man stepped into the barn. He closed the door quietly behind himself and then placed a heavy chain lock through the handles. Roxas stepped back from the man because there was something about him that made the blond uneasy, but he wasn't sure what. However, he appeared not to notice Roxas. Instead, he walked right past him and toward the back of the barn. Roxas, unsure, followed him.

The man grabbed a lantern from where it hung on a hook and held it up to expose a very battered, very weak-looking Axel. The genie's hands were bound by chains and the chains had been affixed to the wall so they were raised over Axel's head. His fingers, Roxas noticed, were all badly broken, and his torso had a myriad of fresh wounds on them.

"So, Genie… Have you decided to grant my wishes yet?" the man asked.

Axel looked at him. "You aren't my master. I can't grant your wishes." It was a mantra, Roxas noted, that seemed to have been repeated thousands of times.

Anger drowned the man's features and he set the lantern down onto the floor of the barn. From his back pocket, he removed a whip and cracked it. "Stand up."

Axel struggled to stand due to his hands being bound to the wall, but he managed and, without being told, he turned and showed his bare back to the man. Roxas stared. Deep, horrible gashes already lined Axel's badly marred back and blood dripped freely from them. Roxas saw Axel's body tense as the man began to whip him repeatedly. The wounds that were already there wept severely and any new lashes created were quickly whipped into deep, unforgiving mark. Axel's body shook and the man stopped. Anger still engulfed his features and he ordered Axel onto his knees.

The redhead did as he was told and Roxas was suddenly very aware of how heavily his heart was beating his chest. The man grabbed a bucket from nearby and dumped the contents of it onto Axel's back. Whatever it was, it had caused the redhead to flinch and Roxas, very briefly, wondered if at some point in time, Axel had been very able to feel pain.

"You gonna grant my wishes, Genie?" the man asked as he pulled Axel's hair back and stared deeply into his green eyes. "Or will I need to bleed you every night until you do as you're told?"

"You aren't my master!" Axel yelled. "I can't –"

The man made a wildly frustrated noise and pulled a switchblade from the waistband of his pants. He flicked the knife open and he grabbed Axel's face, "I bet if I cut your damn throat, nobody will be your master." He pressed the blade to the genie's throat and began to apply pressure.

"Stop!" Roxas yelled. "Stop!"

Realization seemed to cross Axel's features. The man looked at Roxas and then came at him with the knife and time suddenly seemed to slow. Things began to distort. The barn began to disappear. The man's contorted look of rage fell to pieces and the last thing Roxas remembered was a horrible, sharp pain in his left side before he was suddenly awake.

Axel was over him. They were back in his room, in his house, where there was safety and security. Roxas didn't know it, but he had become ashen and he was bleeding. He reached up to touch Axel, but the genie knocked his hands away.

"Stop," Axel was whispering. "Stop."

Roxas tried to form words, but couldn't. The pain in his side was unreal and he needed a doctor or a hospital or something. He squeezed his eyes shut and writhed against the bed. The triangle on his hand began to glow and Roxas tried to stray from his bed, but Axel was straddling him.

"Roxas, stop. Stop moving," Axel commanded softly. The triangles beneath his eyes began to glow and there was a moment where Roxas couldn't remember anything but a bright light and the smell of fresh coffee and cake.

And then he was back in his bed and Axel was standing near the doorway with his back to him.

Panting, the blond stood up, but his knees buckled and he fell. Struggling to stand, he panted, "What the fuck was that?"

"I… I don't know," Axel answered quietly from the doorway.

Roxas' heart was beating quickly in his chest. When he finally managed to stand, he saw that there was blood all over his sheets and blanket. He noticed that Axel, who was shirtless, had blood-smeared handprints on his back.

"What the fuck?" Roxas shook. His hand went to his side, but he didn't feel anything other than a scar that he hadn't had previously. "Was I… did I just get stabbed? What the fuck happened?"

Axel rounded on him. "I don't know!" he yelled, losing total composure. The house shook when the genie yelled and all of Roxas' belongings rattled in place. The redhead put a hand to his forehead and tried to regain himself. "I'm sorry."

Roxas was shaking uncontrollably. He had no choice but to sit because he thought he was going to faint. Axel, against his better judgment, grabbed the afghan that hung around Roxas' arm chair and covered the blond with it. He didn't get too close, but he was attempting to be, in some way, nurturing.

"What happened?" Roxas asked, tugging the afghan tightly around his shoulders as he shook on his bedroom floor. "What was that? Was… Was that a memory?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know…" Axel touched his hand to his head. "I don't know how it happened, I…" He was shaking somewhat too, but he was trying to hide his weakness. He didn't know what happened. One second he was spooning Roxas and the next they were in a living memory. He wasn't going to tell Roxas, but genies had used living memories to place insolent masters in the shoes of a genie. From there, the master would face whatever punishment the genie had and, hopefully, gain a new perspective on how to properly treat their servant.

Axel had never gotten the hang of using living memories. He figured it was because most of his memories were bad so he pushed them out of his mind. However, he had just somewhat enacted one upon Roxas by mistake.

"I'm going to throw up," the blond said suddenly.

Axel quickly conjured a bucket and handed it to his master who immediately began to retch into it. Anything that was in his stomach was quickly pushed out and even after he was done vomiting, he kept the bucket close to his face. His shivering was uncontrollable. He felt incredibly ill.

"I'm sorry," the redhead mumbled again. "I don't know how or why that happened."

Thinking about Axel being whipped, about the wounds on his back, and the stabbing he had just been through caused Roxas to vomit a second time. This time, however, was mostly dry heaves because there hadn't been much in him to begin with.

His eyes were wet from the pressure of throwing up and he tried to breathe evenly. "Please tell me… Please tell me that that wasn't a memory."

Axel looked away guiltily. "A very old one… It… It's a memory up until the point you made yourself known."

Roxas fought the urge to puke for a third time. "Did he… Did he actually slit your throat?" he nearly whispered.

Axel lifted his neck and a very faint scar ran across his Adam's Apple. Roxas' only response was to violently retch into the red-colored bucket Axel had given to him.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Okay so… We're kind of getting into Axel's powers a little more and learning a little more about his past. If there seem to be any plot holes or things that don't fit in with the previous chapters, don't worry. I meant to put those things there and they are, in fact, part of the plot. As the story keeps going, we're going to get more and more into Axel's past and some of the more significant things that happened to him.

Next update should actually be really soon considering I have nearly the entire next chapter written. So… Hooray for that. Uh… Look for a new Riku/Sora story after the last chapter of _GC _comes out.

_**Oh hey, everyone! LOOK RIGHT HERE FOR A MOMENT!**_**  
>So, I don't know if you guys have noticed, but I been leaving notes on my profile that say things like, "Hey, I'm still alive. I'm still going to update!" So… If you take a look at the 'updated' date for a story and see that it's been a while, check my profile. Chances are, I posted something about why the update hasn't come and where the update is as far as being published.<strong>

**Nooooooooo. I don't post author's notes as chapters to stories. I think it's a poopy thing to do because then people think, "OMG IT'S BEEN UPDATED" and then they are incredibly disappointed when, no, the story hasn't been updated, it's just an author's note saying the update is coming. It's obnoxious and I won't do it.**

Thanks for being patient and thanks for favoriting, alerting, reviewing, PMing and all that crazy awesome stuff you guys do.

As usual, thanks to **Aindel S. Druida **whose username I almost always spell wrong and have to later correct. She is an awesome beta so, you know, give her profile and her stories a gander. Send her a PM and ask her if she'll beta. She's really honest though so if you can't stand honesty then I would not recommend her to you. For anyone else that isn't living in a delusional world where their writing is perfect, send **Aindel **a PM.

Thanks for reading!

**Thanks for reviewing (again, I definitely did not proof read any of those responses so please ignore (or jest about) the grammar errors, missing words, incomplete thoughts, all random crap that comes from my head):**

**Sana-chan9: **First, I definitely got your PM and I am definitely going to respond when I get a chance.  
>Second, yes, the whole 'legging as pants' thing is very prevalent at my university and highly obnoxious. Even when it starts to get a little cold (like in the 50s) there are still girls walking around in just leggings and little tiny baby t-shirts. It's all very strange.<br>The man with the belts, if I plan my plot right, will show up again.  
>Yea, I kind of wanted to get into like… The realities of being a genie. I can't imagine that after being alive for so many centuries, you don't see shit that isn't just… beyond what any human could imagine. I gotta think that after seeing so much shit, you don't come out of the lamp all happy and bubbly. Of course, with Genie's case in <em>Aladdin<em>, he hadn't been out of his lamp in… what? 10,000 years? So maybe being trapped for so long would make you forget all the bad crap and force you to look forward to the good stuff.  
>I think Axel just likes to tease Roxas about his lack of wish-making. Normally, in Axel's experience, the wishes have come at a pretty rapid-fire (with an exception here or there) and so he ends up back in his lamp fairly soon after being freed. I think it might also be a little in his nature to be kind of impatient.<p>

**Poisonapple88: **Thanks. I actually really prefer writing dialogue over descriptions (except emotions. I like to write descriptions of emotions). Dialogue comes easier to me. Most the time, when I read fanfiction (when I get the chance) or when I read books that I don't really care for, I skip all the description and jump to dialogue. And then I judge stories based on that. Which sounds really unfair except when you consider that if I can follow a story just by dialogue – and it isn't a script – then something is wrong with the writing. I should be totally lost if I just read dialogue.  
>Yea. Their romance is going to kind of uh… Just happen. It's kind of a slow build-up, but time-wise (in the story), Axel has only been around for maybe a week? Actually, it might not even be that long. But both of them are so lonely that an aspect of their relationship is kind of this… uh… need to have someone. If that makes sense.<p>

**xFallenSpirit13x: **I copied those words and that question from my mom's medical school crap. I would highly, highly, HIGHLY suggest you take some Latin or Greek just because it will SERIOUSLY help you with the medical terminology. If your university offers it, take a "Medical Terminology" course. You'll be amazed at how much better you'll be at recognizing words and being able to remember them if you know the root and the etymology. Seriously. The importance of language cannot be underestimated, especially in science.  
>Yea. I kind of like Roxas because he's… he's a good guy. He's just kind of been given a bit of a shit-stick, you know? And not just in my stories. In the games, too, Roxas was just kind of nothing. And that fact that he's aware of his nothingness and the fact that he doesn't <em>want<em> to be nothing is sad.

**Takara yume: **Thanks. Hopefully the extremely long wait hasn't turned you away from the story!

**Riley: **Hahahahha. I love you too? Unless I die or become a vegetable or a quadriplegic or something that physically prevents me from writing, I will always write. I will always update. Even if I decide one day that I'm shit at writing and that I won't write anymore, I'll finish any unpublished works. I absolutely HATE reading something that I think is really good and then the author never bothers to update and I'm just left hanging. I will never do that to my readers.

**Novelist Pup: **Whoops. I'm sorry. This chapter, I think, is much more emotionally difficult to handle than the last. I hope nobody ends up cutting themselves over it (no, seriously. I mean that). I'll have to post an ultra-happy, ultra-sappy story at some point to make up for all the angst.

**P3lu54: **Unfortunately, "as soon as I can" was forever away! And for that, I am so sorry. I hate these late updates. I know you readers do too!

**Sweet pandamonium: **I totally understand. My chapters are LONG. I really need to scale them back, but I just always have so much to say and I usually think all of what I have to say is important (because, unfortunately, I am that narcissistic and that much of an egoist).  
>I totally get that, too. When I write about Demyx and Zexion or Axel and Roxas or Riku and Sora, I always think about the relationships I have had and how I felt about the other person. Of course, how I feel about those people now is completely different, but… I know what it is like to love someone so deeply that no matter how close – emotionally or physically – it will never be close enough. And that feeling is so scary and so impossible that it almost becomes a burden to have to deal with it. Which is kind of the problem with a love that deep – as you begin to really feel it, it begins to hurt.<br>I love writing Axel/Roxas scenes. They are probably my favorite pairing to write about because they're so… versatile. You can put them in many different places, in many different ways, and have a totally different story, but the characters and how they feel is the same. If that makes sense (which I hope it does).

**Miggery: **Wow, thanks. And sorry for making you cry. It isn't on purpose. I find that I'm actually (apparently) really callous so sometimes when I write sad things, I don't realize how sad they actually might be. Which is why sometimes my stories say like "Romance/Hurt/Comfort" when, as one reviewed pointed out for _Axel's Fables_, it should be more like "Romance/Angst" because that's what it actually is: angst. But I don't like to label things 'angst' because it feels so heavy and it feels like it will weigh on the soul and it feels like reading a story with 'angst' will be just be emotionally stressful. So… Yea.  
>I don't think Roxas quite knows how much he's keeping bottled up. I think he knows it's a lot, but I don't think he understands to what extent he's actually hurting. And I think that happens to people. I think people just get so caught up in <em>living<em> that they start to ignore what's going inside their own heads. I think people are selfish, but wildly non-reflective. And I think that's actually Roxas' problem. He worries a lot about himself, but not in an emotional sense. He worries about himself in regard to physical things. Like he worries about his relationship with Naminé not because he's thinking, "I don't think I like women" but because he's thinking, "If I dump her, I'll feel bad." See? Selfish, but not non-reflective. And now I'm rambling so I think I'll stop.

**AnimeTwin: **Holy crap. Congratulations are in order. Every time someone tells me they've read _Axel's Fables_, I'm always like… stunned. It is SO FUCKING LONG and I think it's good (I hate saying that though because it makes me sound like such a douche), but I know there are lots of errors in it and there are things I didn't properly plan for and things I put in the story to use and then didn't. So… I think _Axel's Fables _will, in time, become one of my "earlier" works in which I'm done with the crap from 2005 (or whenever the fuck I started writing on here. Maybe 2007?), but I'm still building. I'm still learning how to build up a good, proper plot. I'm still learning not to try to cram too much into one story. I'm still learning to plan plot before I publish. And rambling again, sorry.  
>Your review doesn't suck! Reviews never suck! Unless they say something hurtfulunhelpful like, "Ths sucks" and then post it anonymously. Those reviews suck. I can totally respect someone that says "this sucks" provided they defend their opinion and provided they aren't afraid to sign their name to it. I can totally respect that.  
>Uh… yea. The cancer bits are hard. I've never known someone directly with cancer so I can't say, "I know exactly how it would feel," but I do know what it is like to wait and wonder and then wonder some more. And I think the process of waiting and wondering and wondering some more is really the heart of most hospital visits.<p> 


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